What is Not Understood
by Kadi219
Summary: [Raydor/Flynn] A simple misunderstanding brings on a much bigger issue. Spoilers for season 5.
1. Chapter 1

**What Is Not Understood**

 **by Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** Not my sandbox, just the one I love to play in most!

 **A/N:** There are 3 chapters written for this, but since chapter 1 could well be a stand-alone, I'm posting it now. Enjoy!

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 **Chapter 1**

As Andy pulled his car into the driveway he drew a long breath. After finally putting it in park and turning off the engine, he let it out on a long, weary sigh. His head fell back against the headrest and he closed his eyes. There was a headache beginning to pound a rhythm behind his eyes. He wanted a shower, and then he wanted to pour his tired body into bed. First he was going to have to drag his aching bones out of his car. Andy sighed again as he pushed the door open and did just that. As he made his way up the walk, he took a look at the yard. Major Crimes had earned itself a free weekend, and unless something came up that could not be handled without them, he had a list of chores that needed to be completed. The thought brought a small, tired smile to his lips.

They had been living in the house for a few months now. It was their house, his and Sharon's, and after months of searching it was the place that they had both wanted the minute they saw it. Household chores weren't new to Andy, but having someone to remind him that it really couldn't be put off much longer was. He didn't mind it at all. As he put his key in the lock, he glanced toward the empty space that stretched the front of the house toward the east side. The last of the planting needed to be done, and he had promised Sharon they would take care of it this weekend. They had hired a lawn service for the general upkeep and landscaping maintenance, but this they wanted to do themselves, together, to put their own mark on their new home.

They had already spent a few free weekends putting their home together. They had devoted hours to browsing and research, and had painstakingly picked every item that had gone in to it, from the bedrooms to the patio they had blended their lives and their home and made it a reflection of themselves. They had included Rusty wherever they could get the boy to help. His room had been his priority, and beyond that, he was happy to let them do whatever they wanted. Landscaping didn't interest him at all, although he had showed an interest in getting the pool ready for use and entertaining. They had managed to get him to show some excitement as they had put together the kitchen. For that Rusty had pulled Gus in to the activity, and what Sharon and Andy had started, the boys had gladly finished while the older couple was otherwise busy with work.

Andy pushed the door open and stepped into the house. There was a light glowing in the foyer. He dropped his keys in the tray on the table beside the door and reached back to flip the locks. He shrugged out of his leather jacket as he made his way down the entry hall. He stopped to hang it in the closet and turned to key on the alarm system; he flipped the outside and foyer lights off and made his way into the large, open family room. The lamps that Sharon had brought with her from the condo were casting the room in soft light. There were several pieces of furniture in the room that had once been found in her condo; she had kept the end tables and her writing desk and several decorative pieces. The large, dark oak wood cabinet that took up most of one wall and seemed to be built around a widescreen television had come from Andy's place, along with the TV and surround sound system. There was a set of matching tall bookshelves that sat against the opposite wall, with a plush reading chair and lamp positioned between them. With the exception of his recliner, the rest was all new. They had chosen the pieces together and the room had been decorated around all of it.

Unsurprisingly the television was off. Andy found Sharon curled in a corner of the sofa, a blanket covering her legs and a book in her hands. She looked up as he came into the room. She closed the book in her hands and straightened on the sofa. A warm smile curved her lips. "How was it?"

Andy grunted at her. He walked past the sofa and into the kitchen. A granite-topped bar separated the two rooms. Andy filled a glass with cold water before walking back into the family room. Sharon was watching him with an entirely too amused expression. He grunted at her again as he took a seat on the sofa. He leaned back and scrubbed a hand over his face. As his body settled into the sofa he exhaled another tired sigh; he could feel the tension draining out of him. He had only gone out tonight because Sharon had insisted on it. Andy wanted to give the whole thing a pass, but Sharon wouldn't let him, or more to the point, her sense of occasion wouldn't. It was Buzz's birthday, and while they had a quiet, group celebration at the office, the boys wanted to take him out for a better celebration. It was Julio's idea, but Provenza had gotten on board almost immediately, albeit with a good show of grumbling about it. Amy and Cooper were going to be joining them, and Mike said that he was open for stopping for a drink on his way home. Rusty and Gus had been invited too, but the boys already had plans. They were supposed to stop by _Joe's,_ the bar that the division, and many others in the department, liked to gather at after a long day, if they wrapped up their plans before the night ended.

To Andy's way of thinking, he had cake, he toasted Buzz with the sparkling cider they had at the office, and he helped Sharon put the balloons up around the younger man's desk. He had celebrated. Andy had every intention of going home at the end of the day and spending a quiet evening with his other half, in their home, and not in some crowded and loud corner bar. Sharon had given him _that look_ though, the slightly sad one that indicated she wasn't disappointed in him, but he could have chosen better. Then her lips had pursed, her lashes fluttered just a bit, and in a voice that was entirely too sweet, she told him that she thought that he could really use a night out with the boys. Andy was proud of himself for still standing tall at that point.

They were in her office, well out of view of the others, and so she had gone in for the kill. She tugged on his tie and smiled up at him, it was that sly, crooked smile that he could never ignore. While her fingers were stroking his tie, Sharon told him that she was hoping that he would keep the others from getting Buzz into any trouble. She wasn't going out with them, they had invited her, but Sharon knew that they would all have a lot more fun if she was not around. She spent time with her team. There had been dinners, games, and other outings, but there was always that underlying knowledge that she was the boss. They could never relax completely, and so Sharon knew when she should accept their offers and when it was better to decline.

At that point there was nothing that Andy could do but groan. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had muttered an aggrieved "Dammit Sharon," but he had agreed to go with them. Now Andy was kicking himself for giving in and decided it was all Sharon's fault. Andy slumped on the sofa and allowed his head to rest against the cushioned back. His head rolled toward her. His dark eyes were hooded and tired. He gave her a bland look. "Terrible."

Sharon hummed in sympathy and leaned toward him. She laid a hand against his chest and moved closer. Her nose itched and wrinkled as an unfamiliar scent teased it. She drew up short. Sharon took another whiff and then she leaned back again. Her brows arched in curiosity. He smelled of cheap perfume, the sickly sweet kind that teenagers liked to bathe in. "Indeed."

Andy grunted. He frowned at her response. Like most establishments in Los Angeles, the bar hadn't allowed smoking. There had been a couple of guys standing around outside with cigarettes but he didn't think that he had gotten close enough to smell like stale nicotine. Andy picked at his shirt, the brown, casual button down that he wore over a plain white t-shirt. When he got a good nose-full of what she had smelled, he rolled his eyes. Andy groaned. He let his head fall back again and grumbled unhappily. "Damn that Davidson."

"Detective Davidson?" Her brows had risen even higher. Sharon's lips pursed. It wasn't like Andy to come home smelling like cheap perfume, so she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. The officer that he mentioned was from the Hollywood Homicide division, but had once been with Robbery-Homicide. There was no love lost between him and Andy. "Has Detective Davidson taken to dunking himself in cheap perfume and rubbing himself all over you?" Now that she had smelled it, he practically reeked of it.

He snorted at her and rolled his eyes. "No, that bastard would be so lucky." Andy let his eyes close and relaxed on the sofa again. "This was the idiot's idea of a joke. He decided that he needed to help me out. He's worried about my love life." Andy decided to leave it at that and not tell her any of the more demeaning or hurtful things that the Detective and his pals had said. "He got a woman to come over and hit on me. She came on pretty strong; my guess is that she was a hooker and thought she was going to get a good payday. I got rid of her and we left." What he didn't say was that they had all left, and that it had almost come to blows with the other officers. Provenza and Mike had cooled things down, and comically enough, Amy had been right in the middle of it with him, wanting to kick the crap out of those guys while Julio and Cooper had been holding everyone back on both sides. They had decided that it was the better part of valor to let the incident go and so to not ruin Buzz's birthday they all left the bar.

"Mmhm." Sharon tugged on his collar. She flicked it with her fingers and then gave his neck a hard nudge. Both were smudged with lipstick. "It looks as if the detective was very helpful." Sharon stood up and rounded the sofa without another word. Her attempt to give him the benefit of that doubt had come to an abrupt when confronted with the evidence that another woman had, not just her hands, but her mouth on him. Sharon wanted to put some distance between herself and that situation before she said something that she might regret later.

"What?" Andy lifted his head and watched her go. She was moving around the room, turning off lamps. "What does that mean? Sharon?" She didn't respond, and did not even look at him. Andy reached up and ran his fingers over his neck, and then his collar. They came away with a faint, red smear. He groaned out loud again. "Dammit, Sharon!" He pushed himself up off the sofa and followed her. He watched her move up the stairs that led to the second level of their home and flung his arms up in exasperation. "Nothing happened!"

"Hm." She hummed again and continued moving up the stairs. "That nothing can get itself out of your shirt then." She couldn't put her finger on why, exactly, she was upset with him, but seeing the lipstick on his skin _and_ his collar had definitely set her off.

"God almighty!" Andy ran a hand over his face and into his hair. He started up the stairs behind her. "Sharon, she was coming on to me. I didn't lay a hand on her, I swear. Well, I did," he added, "to push her away. You can ask anyone. I didn't want her."

"I do not need to ask anyone, Andy," she responded in a cool tone. "If you say that nothing took place, then that is all that I need to know." It was not that she wanted to believe that anything untoward had happened, but it was an entirely different matter to have him come home smelling like cheap perfume and covered in another woman's makeup. It was bothersome.

They gained the top of the stairs and started down the hall. Their bedroom was at the back of the house. There was also Rusty's bedroom, a guestroom, and two bathrooms on that level. A second guestroom and small bathroom was on the first level. It was probably more space than they really needed, but they told themselves there would be no reason for her children to take turns sleeping on the sofa when they all visited. Andy snorted and kept talking as he followed her. "And it was not because she didn't look great," he explained, "because she did. Davidson knows my type. I just wasn't interested."

Sharon stopped in the hall and turned slowly. Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a long look. "Really?" She spoke using carefully measured words. "Tell me, Andy, what exactly _is_ your type, or rather, what does the rest of the world think that your type is?"

He watched her fold her arms across her chest and realized quickly that he had said the exact _wrong_ thing. "Uh." His mind had gone blank. Andy gestured helplessly with his hands. "You know what my type is," he said.

"Do I?" Sharon turned on her heel again. "I think the more important question here, Andrew, is whether or not _you_ know what your type is." She stopped at their bedroom door and looked back at him. "Or whether or not you even still have one."

Andy jumped when she shut the door. Sharon didn't slam doors, that was not her style, but he was surprised that she had closed it on him. He looked a little confused until he heard the sound of the lock clicking into place. "Oh come on!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. He walked over and leaned against the doorframe. "Sharon, I think we both know that _you_ are my type. Sweetheart, this is stupid, you know what I meant. Nothing happened tonight, I swear."

"Yet for some reason, I am beginning to wonder if it was for lack of interest or whether or not you believed that you would get in trouble," she replied, speaking at him through the closed door. He could very well sleep downstairs as far as she was concerned. Sharon was reminded of another man that she had this argument with, and although she had always been very steadfast in not comparing the two, she was also reminded of Andy's reputation. She was reminded, too, of fact that people always seemed to be surprised at the idea that he had given up his bachelor lifestyle and settled down again. She was not an insecure person by nature, but the fact that this bothered the hell out of her could not be denied, or ignored.

"Oh my god." Andy groaned. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the door. He wanted to bang his aching head against it, but didn't. He had a pretty good idea of what he'd done wrong, but that didn't change the fact that this whole argument was the dumbest one that they had ever had. Not that they argued very often, and this was definitely the first time that he had ever found himself locked out of the bedroom. "Sharon," her name left his lips on a sigh. "Honey, I would never hurt you like that," he said quietly, truthfully. The idea of ever being with another woman had never crossed his mind. It had been years since he thought about being with anyone but Sharon. She had occupied his thoughts for a long time before he ever got up the courage to ask her out.

Her eyes closed. She leaned her head back against the closed door. Her arms were still wrapped tightly around herself. There was a large part of her that believed him, but it was that small voice in the back of her mind that was giving her pause. She had completely changed her life, sold her home, and done something that she had once promised that she would never do again. She had combined her life with another person's with a level of permanence that was as frightening as it was exciting. She had stopped listening to her head and followed her heart instead. It was her head that was speaking louder than her heart now. She sighed as she attempted to silence it. "Andy, were you even going to tell me what happened tonight? Or would you have pushed it aside as unimportant."

"It _is_ unimportant, Sharon." He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling above them. "It was a dumbass joke. I wanted to knock the hell out of Davidson and his pals. Hell, I didn't even want to go out tonight. You made me," he reminded her. "I might've told you about it tomorrow, but tonight all I wanted to do was take a hot shower and lay down next to you."

It wasn't necessarily the words, but the way that he said them. Just when she was tempted to open the door again, she felt her temper rising. "So this is my fault?" Her eyes widened at his audacity. He was implying that none of this would have happened if _she_ had not forced him into the situation. "I asked you to keep the others from getting Buzz into trouble," Sharon reminded him. "I didn't think that I needed to send a babysitter with you too!"

Andy couldn't take it anymore. He pushed away from the doorframe with a frustrated growl. "I don't need a damned babysitter, but it would be a hell of a lot easier to keep strange women from crawling all over me if I had a ring on my finger!" They hadn't talked about marriage, not yet. Andy wanted to, but as usual, he was letting Sharon set the pace. Just like he had since the very beginning of this relationship. They had gone slow because she needed to, and he would wait for her forever if he had to, but there were times… like now, when it was just damned frustrating.

It wasn't like he thought that they never had arguments, because Rusty knew otherwise. It was just weird to come home and find Andy standing outside his and Sharon's bedroom talking to the door. He had been privy to a few of their more… heated discussions in the time that his mother had been dating the Lieutenant. He had even known about them _before_ they started actually dating, back when they thought they were just very good friends. Typically it was because one of them usually said or did something that the other did not agree with. Normally it was the Lieutenant, although Rusty knew that his mother was not completely innocent in some of those encounters. Still, they were not the kind of fights that he was used to people in a relationship having. They were not the screaming and fighting matches his biological mother had with her boyfriends while he was growing up. No, when Sharon and Andy were arguing it was usually pretty quiet, and often pretty comical. Mainly because neither of them ever wanted to be the one to give in and that usually meant whoever was _at fault_ tended to make the situation worse.

Rusty was smiling as he moved down the hall. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "What did you do this time?"

Flynn stared at the kid. Then he shook his head. He threw his hands up in disgust. "Why does it always have to be me?" He asked. "She's impossible!" Andy turned away from the door. He walked past the kid and headed back downstairs.

Sharon stood with her eyes closed and her fingers pressed to her forehead. She took a deep breath and tried to let it calm her. She could sense that she was being irrational. It was almost as if she was stuck on the outside of this situation, watching every irrational behavior that she was engaging in, but unable to stop it. Without meaning to, or even being the least bit at fault for it, Andy had triggered something in her. She thought that she had dealt with all of her insecurities about being in a relationship again, but apparently she was wrong. She did not, even for a moment, truly believe that he would ever be unfaithful to her. If she had ever entertained those doubts they would not be together now. She could not be with someone that she did not trust, and she did trust him, but her response tonight was not one that she could have foreseen and it seemed that it was not one that she could easily stop either.

A soft knock drew her attention. Sharon sighed. She knew that she had angered him, and quite possibly even hurt him, but she needed to understand exactly why she was having this response before they could talk about it. "Not yet, Andy. I need a few minutes." She needed to get her thoughts and her emotions back in order and then they could approach this as the more rational adults that they usually were.

"Mom, it's me." Rusty's voice came through the door. "Are you okay?"

Sharon moaned quietly. The last thing that she wanted or needed was for Rusty to be witness to this argument. Not when he was finally comfortable with them and accepting all of the changes in his life. Sharon pulled the door open and plastered a smile in place. "Everything is fine. You're home early," she said, and tried to deflect his concern. "I thought that you and Gus were going to stop by the bar on your home?"

She wasn't crying, but her eyes were definitely wet. Rusty gave her a knowing look. She wasn't fooling him. "Well, we were going to, but everyone left because some guys were being idiots." Rusty leaned against the now open doorjamb with his hands still in his pockets. He shrugged at her. "I guess stuff got kind of heated and they got out of there. Something about not getting in trouble with the boss," he teased.

A frown drew her brows together. Sharon's arms had moved to being more loosely folded across her chest. "What do you mean?" Andy hadn't told her that. Her eyes narrowed. She had the impression that he had not really planned on telling her any of it. On the one hand she wanted to know what all of them had done, but on the other, she was questioning _why_ he was so reticent to clue her in. She went back to her earlier question. If not for the lipstick on his collar would he have mentioned it at all? Now she wanted to know if there was a bigger reason for that. "Rusty?"

She drew out the syllables of his name in a way that made him wince. Rusty shrugged again. He and Gus had gone to see a play with some friends, which was why they had not met everyone at the bar earlier in the evening. "When our show was over," he told her, "I called Buzz to see if they were all still at the bar. We were going to swing by and hang out with everyone. Buzz said that he and Julio had gone to get something to eat, but everyone else had gone home or out to do other things. He told me that there were some other police officers there and they were being jerks. They were trying to start an argument, I guess one of them used to work with Andy?" Rusty pushed away from the door and followed Sharon when she moved further into her room. She sat down on the bed and pulled a pillow into her lap. He sat on the cushioned bench at the foot of it, facing her.

"Detective Davidson," Sharon filled in for him. That much she already knew. Her head tilted. "Did Buzz give you any details on what actually happened?" Was the fact that they had all gotten into some sort of situation the reason that Andy wasn't going to tell her what happened? They walked a fine line. There were some things that she simply couldn't ignore, and she knew that made it harder to separate their personal and professional lives. There were things that he might tell his girlfriend that he simply could not, or would not, tell his boss and vice-versa. Sharon was beginning to feel a lot worse about their argument and the way that she had behaved.

"Just that they were making some noise about Andy and you." Rusty gave her a small, sad smile. "He wouldn't tell me all of it. He said it was mostly inappropriate and that it made Andy mad. I guess that he and Amy almost got into a fight with the other officers over it. They decided it wasn't worth it, though, and that they were in a bar full of cops so they all just left."

"I see." She did now. It would not be the first time that she or Andy had taken some negative or inappropriate remarks about their relationship. The problem with dating within the law enforcement community, and the reason that she had so carefully avoided doing that for so long, was because it was so small and news traveled so quickly. Once she and Andy began dating, there were not a lot of people who knew them both who hadn't known about it… or had an opinion of it. There were those who didn't like them and had disparaging things to say on the matter. Sharon was constantly reminded of Andy's previous reputation as a troublemaker, a drunk, and a womanizer. Likewise, she knew that Andy had taken some ribbing from other officers about sleeping with his boss, getting in to bed with the Ice Queen, and dating the Dragon Lady. Sharon wasn't blind to the reputation that she had from her days with Internal Affairs. The things that others said never bothered her, and she knew that Andy typically ignored it too. On the whole these were not the officers that they dealt with on a daily basis. Most everyone they worked with was professional enough to keep their opinions to themselves, if they even had one. Still, it had bothered Andy in the beginning, when their relationship was still new and he believed that he would never be good enough for her. They were past that now, but it seemed that others were not.

Sharon could well imagine the things that must have been said for the incident to escalate as it had, including the woman that Andy told her about. She placed the pillow that she was holding aside with a sigh. "Thank you, Rusty. You can go to bed. Everything is okay."

Rusty wondered if that was really true. At the same time, he knew that he wasn't supposed to get involved. Not that it always stopped him. He stood up. "You know, Mom. He doesn't mean to be an idiot." Rusty grinned at her. That was something that Lieutenant Provenza had said to him a long time ago, back when Andy and his mom first began dating. The Lieutenant warned him to go easy on the other guy. He didn't mean to be an idiot; it just came out that way sometimes. Although the Lieutenant hadn't been too keen on the idea at first either, he told Rusty to give Andy a chance, that he was crazy about his mother, and he would do anything for the opportunity to make her happy. Rusty had seen that now with his own eyes. He still thought it was all weird and gross, but his mother was happy, and she seemed to know what she was doing. Andy wasn't so bad. He was a bit of an idiot at times, but then, Rusty figured he was an idiot with Gus too sometimes, so it wasn't a big deal. "Goodnight, Mom."

She smiled as he left the room. "Good night," she called after him. Sharon shook her head. Her son still had the capacity to surprise her. She looked around the now silent bedroom and groaned. She covered her face with her hands. She was still upset, but at least she understood it a little better after speaking with Rusty. Her reaction was a wholly irrational one and triggered by events of her past and not by anything that Andy had actually done. Sharon sat on the bed for another moment before finally rising. She made her way from the room and back down the stairs. The lights on the first level were still turned off and a glance through one of the front windows showed her that Andy's car was still parked in the drive beside Rusty's. She didn't really think that he would leave because they argued, at least not without telling her that he was going for a drive.

She took a moment once she was downstairs to look around. The lights in the kitchen were not on. She looked through the double doors that led out onto the patio and found that the yard was only illuminated by the security lights along the tall privacy fence that surrounded their property. Sharon left the family room and moved to the back of the house. To one side of that wide, open room was the kitchen and a formal dining room, to the other, a wide entryway led into a den and from there a short hallway would take her to the back of the house. There was a small half bath just off the den for guests, but the den was still standing empty as they had not decided yet what to do with it. Sharon didn't want an office, she sat in an office all day, and Andy had no use of one. Any business that was handled at home was done at the writing desk in the family room, which Sharon had strategically placed near the double, patio doors so that she would have a view of the outside. They had talked of adding a couple of couches and filling it with books, but no final decisions had been made just yet. Beyond the den and down the hall was the laundry room. It was much larger than the little closet that she had at the condo. Sharon rather enjoyed the shelving and cabinetry that had been built into the room. The laundry room also opened into the backyard, and there were two wide windows on each side of the door that provided the room with a lot of natural light.

They had worried, when they first began discussing buying the house, that there were a lot of ways into and out of the structure. As police officers their concerns came naturally, an occupational hazard. There was also still the lingering threat of Phillip Stroh, even if they were certain that he was still abroad, he was always there, in the back of Sharon's mind. That was a place that he would remain as long as he was alive and free.

There was the main entrance at the front of the house, the double patio doors in the family room, and the single patio doors in the laundry room and kitchen. In addition there was also the door that opened into the house, just across from the laundry room, from the attached two-car garage. It was a garage that was currently serving as storage for everything that had come with them in the move that had not yet made it into the house or to a donation bin. By unspoken agreement between the men in her life, Sharon's car was parked in the remaining space while they left their vehicles in the driveway.

They had the security system installed to alleviate their concerns. It had come with the lights that bordered the bottom of the privacy fence and those at the front of the house, strategically placed within the flowerbeds that lined the front walk.

Sharon reflected, again, as she moved down the hall to the small, first floor guest room, that the house was much too large for just the two of them. It didn't seem like too much with Rusty there, but he would not live with them forever. They had talked about that when they saw the house that first time. It was huge. Easily triple the size of her condo and twice the size of Andy's house. That hadn't changed the fact that they had both immediately loved it. Rusty had liked it too, when they came back for a second look and brought him with them.

There was something else that they had considered, though, when seriously discussing whether or not they should make an offer on it. It wasn't only their lives that they were combining. They both had children. Nicole already had children. At some point there would be more grandchildren. If they were going to make a home together they had to stop thinking of things in terms of her family or his, but rather, as their family. Already the pool was a big hit with Nicole's stepsons, Ricky would be visiting soon, and there would be no reason now for him to sleep on the couch or for Rusty to give up his room. Emily would not have to question that there would be room for her, if she was able to finalize plans to visit when her brother was there. There was going to be enough room for everyone. The final deciding factor had come when Andy had looked at her, and said simply enough, that Rusty would never have to question that he had a home to come back to. There would always be a room for him there.

Sharon could not have loved him more than she had in that moment. A man that would so easily plan for a future, not just for himself, but for all of them was not a man that would hurt her in the way that her insecurities had wanted her to believe. There were still, it seemed, obstacles to be faced in this relationship, some of them were just buried far deeper than others.

In the small guestroom Sharon found a single lamp casting the room in soft light. There was a bathroom attached to it. It was little more than a shower stall and a toilet, with a very small vanity wedged into it, but it was functional. Sharon could hear the shower running as she moved into the room. There were clothes on the bed, a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt that she knew he would have gotten from the basket of clothes in the laundry room that was waiting to be put away. Sharon picked the items up and then sat on the edge of the bed. She held them in her lap, idly picking away at the seams of the sweat pants while she waited for Andy to finish his shower. She didn't look up again until she heard the water shut off a little while later.

He pulled the towel tiredly over his body before finally tying it around his waist and walking into the bedroom. Andy stopped when he spotted Sharon seated, waiting for him. He was a little surprised. He figured since he was in the _doghouse_ that he might as well get comfortable for the night. She looked tired and sad; her face seemed to reflect the way that he felt.

She didn't say anything when he stopped beside the bed. Sharon stood up and held out the clothes that he had laid out for bed. He took the t-shirt and let the sweats fall to the bed, beside where she had been sitting. He watched her for a moment, and then he looked away and shook the shirt out. She moved behind him. Sharon laid a hand against his back and enjoyed the ripple of muscles beneath her palm as he sorted out his shirt. Her hand moved, sliding down his back and was replaced with her lips. Her arms moved around his waist and she leaned against his back. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Andy held the t-shirt in his hands for a moment longer. He exhaled quietly. "I'm not Jack," was all that he said. He thought about it while he was in the shower, while the hot water was chasing away the tension in his body. He was left aching and tired, and not at all sure why they had argued, save one reason. _Jack_. He cheated on her, more than once, and before he finally left her. Andy had heard the story from her point of view. The first time she caught him at it, she was about eight months pregnant with Ricky. Andy wondered if she knew that the rumors went back to well before that. Knowing her, she probably did, but it was the facts that she preferred to deal with. She had forgiven Jack more times and for more things than she probably should before finally separating herself from him. It had taken her a long time to rid herself of him completely.

"I know." She pressed her lips against his shoulder. For the first time in their relationship, going all the way back to when they had only been friends, she had treated him as though he were anything like her ex-husband. Andy wasn't Jack; it was why she had been able to let herself love him. Yes, they were both alcoholics that had blown their lives apart, but those were actions they had in common, and an illness, not personality traits. When he moved to pull the t-shirt over his head, Sharon leaned back and let her arms drop.

It was not until he had pulled it on that he reached for her. Andy reached back and caught her arm. He tugged her around in front of him and wrapped his arms around her. He turned his face into her hair and held her just as tightly as she was clinging to him. Her thirty-year marriage had left its marks on her. "I'd never—"

"I _know_." Sharon pressed her fingers to his lips. She didn't want to hear anymore. He didn't have to say it. She knew better. "The difference is, Jack would have taken her up on the offer. He would have laughed with Detective Davidson, and all of his friends, about how lucky he was to have someone looking out for him. He would have agreed that I was a frigid, hard ass and that he was only staying with me because of what it could do for him professionally." She spoke quietly, sad because they had argued, but not because she gave the insults any thought or power over her. "Jack would have made a few crude jokes at the expense of our sex life, and exaggerated every point until he was the center of attention and had gained everyone's sympathy. What he would not have done," she continued, "is put the detectives in their place, remove himself to avoid a more serious altercation, and then come home to me." Her gaze dropped then. Her fingers tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. "The jealous shrew that put him in that position to begin with."

"Don't." He tipped her chin up. His eyes burned dark in the dimly lit room. Andy didn't know how she had found out what all had happened that night, but he wasn't surprised by it. "If I really didn't want to go, I wouldn't go. It wasn't a bad night until those idiots showed up, but you didn't _force_ me to do anything. I went because it was the right thing to do, _and_ because you asked me to go." He would do anything for her, but that was his choice, not something she was pushing him in to. "They're assholes. They wanted to pick a fight, and they almost did. It wasn't about you, Sharon. It was me that they were trying to piss off. It was me that they were trying to make a fool of. If they thought they could cause trouble between us because of some cheap bimbo in trashy stilettos, then that was just a bonus for them. I wasn't interested, and the joke was on them, because yeah, I have you to come home to." He leaned close, his tone lowered, growing raspy and thick. "You are my type," he told her, repeating what he'd said earlier during their argument, but with far more meaning.

Sharon turned her face into his neck. Her hands slid up his back as she held tightly to him. There were tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She might not have been able to fully anticipate or prevent how she had reacted, but she could regret it, and did.

"Me too." A hand moved into her hair to cup the back of her head. His other arm remained firmly wrapped around her, holding her close. He had gotten defensive and said all the wrong things when he could have just told her what happened. He didn't want to hurt her though, didn't want her to know how people still thought of them. He didn't want Sharon to feel torn between getting involved as their CO and being upset about it as his girlfriend. Andy knew that it was a lot harder for her to keep their personal and professional lives separated than it was for him. He didn't want to make it harder on her. He did that anyway, on the personal front.

"I love you," she murmured. "Andy, I have never believed that you are capable of behaving that way," she said of their argument. "I knew that my reaction was wrong, I just couldn't stop it."

"You were married for over thirty years," he reminded her. "You've only been divorced for two. We'll figure it out." That was at the heart of why she had wanted to move slowly in their relationship. It, and the fact that she was worth waiting for, were why Andy had accepted her pace. He wondered now if maybe, just maybe, he rushed her a bit. It was too late to go back now, and he didn't want to, but he would be more careful. He reminded himself to think about what emotional pitfall she might be coming from before he let himself get frustrated with her or lose his temper… or before he decided to protect her from something that she could more than handle.

Sharon only hummed in response. She was content to remain in the circle of his arms until she realized how uncomfortable it might for him to be standing there in only a t-shirt and his towel. It was with some reluctance that she stepped back. "Come to bed," she said, and gave the towel a light tug.

"Yeah." The bed in the guestroom was her old bed. They had bought another one when they moved in to the house, one that suited them both. Andy wasn't too thrilled at the idea of sleeping on this one. It killed his back. He wanted his own bed, but more than that, he wanted her curled up beside him. That was all that he had wanted all night, to come home and go to bed with the woman he loved. Andy finished getting dressed before he let her lead him out of the room. His arm wrapped around her as they headed upstairs.

Once they had gained the sanctuary of their shared room, Andy turned down the bed while Sharon changed. When she crawled in to bed beside him a few minutes later she wore a pair of cotton pajama pants and a plain, white tank top. She got comfortable on her side and settled close to him with her back pressed against his chest and his arm around her waist. Her eyes closed and she gave a contented sigh. This was really all she had wanted all evening too.

They lay beside each other, both tired, but neither sliding into slumber just yet. There was still a sense of discomfiture in the air. Finally Sharon rolled on to her back and looked up at him. In the moonlit glow from the windows she could just make out his features. His arm was still around her, but when she moved, his hand slipped to her stomach. Sharon's fingers stroked his forearm in a simple, relaxing caress. "What you said earlier," she began carefully, not quite sure how to put the question in her mind to words, but knowing that she needed to, "about a ring on your finger. Is that… Andy, I didn't think that option was on the table for us."

Marriage was not something that they had ever discussed, at least not where it pertained to them _together_. They had discussed the matter. Sharon recalled a conversation they had a couple of years ago. They had been out to dinner on one of their _non-dates_. Andy was telling her about his most recent _guys night out_ with Provenza, or as he sometimes called them, nights when Provenza wanted drinks and someone to drive him home. At that time the other Lieutenant had only been dating Patrice for a few months, but Andy had laughed as he told her that Provenza had started making noises about this one being _the one_. Andy had told her that he had to give Provenza props; when it came to marriage his partner kept trying it on for size, even when the marriages didn't fit. He, on the other hand, had tried it the once and that was enough.

"You said that you would never get married again," she reminded him. If she was completely honest about it, she wasn't ready either at the time they made the decision to combine their households. They had been living together for a few months now, though, and the thought was there before he planted it. When he said that he wanted them to live together, Sharon had accepted that it was his way of committing to her, to their future. She had known who he was when she fell in love with him. She wouldn't try to change him. She did not _want_ to change him.

Andy lifted his head and propped it in his hand. "I didn't plan on it," he said, and could recall the conversation that she was referencing. That was a long time ago, before he thought she would ever consider going out with him. His thumb stroked her stomach. Andy shrugged. "But I never expected to be with you, either." After his divorce, and once he got sober, he was more than happy to live the single life. Yeah, he had a reputation. He had gone through women like they were cheap suits for a while. When he got tired of that, he went out when he wanted to, when it suited him. He didn't date seriously. He always kept it casual. That was until Sharon. He had known, from the very beginning, that she wouldn't be a fling. He just never let himself believe they would get this far.

"Are you thinking about it now?" The question was a little more breathy than she had intended, but Sharon thought that this was a door that was firmly closed. He hadn't brought it up before, but that didn't mean that he was never going to.

Andy didn't answer immediately. He lay beside her for a few moments. He didn't want her to think that it was an off the cuff response, or just some idea that he had because they were arguing. His lips pursed. She was watching him, wide-eyed and curious. She looked surprised at the idea, but not spooked by it. Sharon had never mentioned marriage either, but if she thought it was off the table, that would be why. Still, he had to know that the idea would have occurred to her. She did like her rules.

When Andy sat up and moved from the bed, Sharon leaned up her elbows. He had tapped the lamp on his side of the bed, turning it on to its lowest setting. It was just enough light to fill the room with a soft enough glow that he could move easily and she could track his movements as he crossed the room. She watched him move to the closet. He opened one of the double doors of the large, walk-in structure and stepped into it. There were shelves on both sides, and from where she lay, Sharon could see him reach up and pull something down from one of the high shelves in the back. Andy was as much of a clotheshorse as she was, and just as organized. It was one of the many ways that they simply fit easily together.

He returned to the bed a couple of minutes later and regained his spot beside her. This time, he arranged his pillows behind him and sat with his back propped against the headboard. There was a small, dark pouch in his hand. Andy turned it over between his fingers a couple of times before he finally opened and let the contents tumble out into his palm. "I bought it the day after we closed on the house."

A simple gleaming band and a well-cut stone caught the faint light from the lap and sparkled up at her. Sharon sat up beside him and studied the ring in his palm. The tips of her fingers itched and she gave in to the sensation. She lifted it carefully. Although her breath caught at the simple beauty of it, and all that it meant for them, her heart was beating a steady rhythm in her chest. Warmth filled her. "You never said anything." She looked up at him again and found him studying her carefully.

"We weren't ready." He was, but Andy had known that she wasn't. He watched her and the delight in her eyes was a relief. One of his shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I was going to do it at Christmas. It's your favorite time of year," he explained. "I know it's corny, but I thought your sense of occasion would appreciate it." Unless something happened to stop their plans, they were going away for the holiday this year. They weren't joining the rest of her family, not this time; they weren't ready for that yet. It was going to be her kids, though, and his, and Gus was joining them. They hadn't decided between Colorado or the mountains of New Mexico yet, but Sharon wanted it to be some place cold, with snow.

A smile curved her lips. She held the ring for just a moment longer before placing it back in his hand. "Yes it would," she agreed. Sharon inclined her head at him. He spoke in the past tense now. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before she asked quietly, "And now?"

Andy shrugged again. "I guess my big mouth ruined the surprise." He studied the ring in his hand. He worked it through his fingers before reaching for her hand. "This is not how I planned it," he said, voice growing low and raspy with emotion. "We were gonna have dinner, maybe go for a walk in the snow." He missed a good winter scene. He liked living in southern California, but he could recall just how magical the snow could be beneath a bright, full moon. That was the vision he had in mind when he thought about how he would ask her to marry him.

Sharon laid her chin against his shoulder. She watched him slide the ring onto her finger. Moisture filled her eyes. It fit just perfectly. Once it was in place, their fingers clasped together. "I don't need grand romantic gestures to make me happy, Andy. You make me happy."

She lifted her head when his turned and he looked down at her. "Right here with you, that's where I wanna be, for the rest of my life, however long that is. I didn't have a reason to get married again, Sharon. I didn't have you. It's on the table, if you want it to be."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. For a man who didn't think that he had a way with words, he usually said the right things, in just the right way. This might not have been the proposal that he imagined, but it was the two of them, in the most honest setting they had. That was the life that she wanted with him. Even with all of the ups and downs and missteps. It wasn't their mistakes that would define their life together; it was how they handled them. A smile lit her face, her eyes shined at him with utter joy. "Fine."

Andy curled an arm around her and pulled her down onto the bed with him. "We are going to have to find you a new word," he decided. He reached out and tapped the lamp again until the light was extinguished. He found her lips in the dark and her laugh had him smiling against her mouth. "I love you."

She hummed as he settled against her. She drew her legs up along his body as they both got comfortable and their smiling, open-mouthed kisses began to linger and grow more passionate. "I do," she whispered against his mouth, in answer to his proposal. "I most definitely do." She had not expected to love again, but she did. She had not thought that she would want to share her life with another, but she did. She never thought she would want to get married again, but this man, he had taken her by surprise. He moved in to her life until she could not imagine moving forward without him in it. She wanted him, all of him, and more than that, she wanted to give him all of her.

Andy lifted his head before things could become too heated and gave her a very serious look. "We'll tell everyone that it was really romantic though, right?"

Sharon stared up at him. He looked so very worried and adorable. She snorted a laugh and wrapped her arms around him. As his arms circled her, holding her just as tightly while they both laughed at the utterly ridiculous image they must paint, having just agreed to get married while laying in bed, dressed in their oldest and most comfortable pajamas, Sharon thought that while he may not be perfect, and neither was she, he was perfect for her.

 **-TBC-**


	2. Chapter 2

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. That their phones had not gone off during the night was a good sign. After a couple of leisurely hours spent together enjoying the sunrise from their bed, and the way that their room was slowly bathed in light, Sharon and Andy had both finally risen to get a start on their day.

Sharon had showered and dressed for the day with her mind set toward the flower beds on the east side of the house and finishing them. She wore a pair of black, spandex workout capris and a red tank. Because the morning was cool and they would need to make a trip to the plant nursery to pick out what they would be planting, she had pulled a thin, ivory sweater over the ensemble.

Afterward she stood in the center of the kitchen, a cup of coffee in one hand while she enjoyed the natural light that streamed in from the many windows. Most mornings her gaze was turned toward the back yard, watching as the morning sunlight sparkled on the clear water of the pool; that morning she was content to watch the way the ring on her finger caught the light and gleamed up at her. They were going to have to tell their kids, but there was time enough for that. For now she was pleased with the knowledge and allowed herself to enjoy the warmth that filled her at the thought of the future that they were going to have.

"We're going to have to do something with that flower bed." Andy's voice echoed toward her before he entered the kitchen. He came in carrying the newspaper and looking as annoyed as he sounded. He peeled the soiled wrapping off of it and dropped the paper on the center island beside her before moving over to the sink to rinse off his hands. "That damn delivery guy is pissing me off."

"Hm." Sharon hummed in amusement. She lifted her coffee in both hands and sipped from the cup while she watched him move around the kitchen. He dried his hands and took down a mug to fill. "That is the plan," she reminded him. They were getting it done this weekend if she had to put Rusty and Gus on it. Sharon was tired of looking at the empty space.

"Yeah, I know." She had already reminded him that morning. Andy moved back to the island and set his coffee on the granite surface beside her. He kept a hand on the cup as his other arm wrapped around her waist. Andy leaned in to her back and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. Her sweater had shifted, exposing not just the strap of her red tank top, but a small expanse of soft skin. "Later," he mumbled and kissed a path to her neck, "busy right now."

A low, throaty chuckle filled the room. Sharon covered his hand where it splayed across her stomach and tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. Her eyes closed and she leaned back against him, content to let him have his way, if just for a few minutes. He had caught her staring at her ring that morning, and had asked if she had any regrets or second thoughts. In light of their argument the previous night, she could understand why he would be concerned. Sharon had allayed those fears quickly. For whatever reason they may argue or disagree, she was confident they would always find a way to work it out. They had learned, and were still learning, from the relationships they had before. They were building a life together, and their path would not always be an easy one, but she was willing to take the bad with the good. Sharon hummed again and turned her head toward him. Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss.

"Oh come on. Really!" Rusty made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as he crossed the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and turned to lean back against the counter. By now they were mostly separated, even if Andy still had his arm around her. "Dude," he pointed his cup at the older man. "That's my mom." There were some things that he just did not need to see. They had talked about this. There had been a dual agreement that there would be no making out in any communal locations. There were some things they didn't want to see either.

Andy heard Sharon snort. Her head lowered and she lifted her coffee cup again, to hide her laugh, he knew. His hand moved from her stomach to her hip. He shrugged at the kid. Andy lifted his own cup and took a sip of coffee. Then he smirked at the boy. They had talked about it this morning. They would tell the rest of their kids together, but Rusty lived with them. It would be harder to hide, and they really didn't want to. "Yeah," Andy said, in a drawling and happy tone, "but that's my fiancé."

He was not the kind of person to get all giddy and want to jump around, but if anything could tempt him, it was this. It was delivering the news to Rusty in his own way, and in response to one of the kid's smart aleck reactions to his relationship with Sharon. Andy had put up with a lot of crap from that kid in the time that he had been dating Sharon, and was happy to do it for her, and because really the kid had been through hell and couldn't help a lot of it. There was plenty, however, that the little fountain of sarcasm could help. For that, Andy just grinned as he watched him stare, wide-eyed, at the pair of them. When Andy glanced at Sharon and found her staring at him, brows raised, he just shrugged. She wasn't taking this one from him. Oh no, this was all his. He lifted his cup again, eyes sparkling happily. When she only rolled her eyes and leaned against him, he almost felt like dancing.

Rusty's jaw had dropped open. It moved a few times but there was no sound. For once he was completely speechless. He watched his mother lay her head on her boyfriend's shoulder, and while he had expected this would eventually happen, he was still a little thrown by it. "Are you serious?" He finally managed to ask.

"Very serious." Sharon lifted her hand so that he could see the glittering stone on her finger. It was a simple, emerald cut diamond set in a gold band. She did not wear a lot of jewelry, and when she did, the pieces were usually simple and elegant. There were a couple of more ornate items in her collection, pieces that she was drawn to or paired with specific outfits in her wardrobe. Andy had chosen well. He had known that she wouldn't want anything too extravagant for everyday wear. The ring was classic and elegant, like her, had been his words on the matter. Sharon placed her coffee cup back on the granite surface in front of them and met her son's gaze. "Rusty," she said carefully, "I understand that things are changing for us again, but…"

"Yeah." Rusty shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I mean, it was only a matter of time once you moved in together. That's kind of how these things work, isn't it?" He looked into his coffee cup and sighed. "I just…"

Sharon's brows knit in concern. He seemed to really be struggling with their announcement. She had hoped that, by now, Rusty could just be happy for them. She felt Andy grow stiff behind her and suppressed an urge to sigh. Sharon could not fault Andy for his response or that he was getting ready for an argument. Her fingers circled his wrist and stroked the soft, inner skin beneath the gold bracelet that he never took off. "Just what," she prodded, and wanted him to say it. If there was going to be a confrontation then she wanted to have it now so that they could all move beyond it.

Rusty sighed. He looked up at them through his lashes. He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air between them. "It's just that… now I owe Lieutenant Provenza fifty bucks." Rusty rolled his eyes heavenward and groaned. "He gave you two months and I thought it would take a little longer. I figured it would happen at Christmas." He gave them both an exasperated look. "He's a goofball," he said and pointed at Andy. "That's something he totally would have done, and then he would have been all proud of himself for really getting your _sense of occasion_ ," Rusty pitched his voice low in a passable imitation of the other man. "You had to do it _now_?"

Her mouth opened but quickly closed again. Behind her Andy was laughing. She pushed him away from her. "It is not funny." She gave his chest a light smack. "Andy! Do not encourage him."

"Too late. Provenza already did." He continued to laugh, even when she glared at him. There was no heat in it. Sharon was more amused than upset. "He's not wrong." The kid had him pegged. Andy shook his head. He leaned against the island. "Two months," he said to Rusty, "really?" Before the kid could answer, he looked down at Sharon again. "Did he just call me a goofball?"

She smiled serenely at him. "He's not wrong," she parroted back at him.

Rusty gave them a long, bland stare in return. He ignored how the older man gripped his mother's side in a way that made her squirm and snicker. "She likes rules," he said, repeating Lieutenant Provenza's statement on the situation. Rusty walked over to stand on the opposite side of the island. He placed his cup on it and gripped the edge of the granite-topped surface. "Amy had you down for New Year's Eve, so I'm not the only one that's going to be paying up. Mike wouldn't take the bet, Buzz said that you're a pair of snails and gave it a year."

"Damn." Andy whistled, impressed with the take on them. "The old man really cashed in. What about Julio?" His eyes narrowed speculatively and he took another drink from his coffee cup.

"Andy!" Sharon had her arms folded across her chest. She was less than pleased that their friends and colleagues were taking bets on their personal life.

"What?" He looked down at her. His dark eyes were still sparkling. "I'm going to make that old reprobate give me half of it."

"Good luck with that." She rolled her eyes at him. There was no way that the Lieutenant would part with his winnings, and she wasn't going to get involved. Sharon made up her mind right then to stay out of it.

"Julio owes him seventy-five." Rusty shrugged. He grinned crookedly. "He said you already manned up and popped the question, she was either just dragging her feet on the answer or you guys weren't telling anyone yet. He thought maybe you were waiting until Ricky and Emily visited to tell them in person." His brother would be visiting in a couple of weeks and Emily was trying to work her schedule around joining them too.

"Dragging my feet?" Sharon's eyes widened. Her arms dropped from where they were folded across her chest. Andy roared with laughter and she whirled on him. " _Andy_."

"He just wasn't sure that she really wants to keep you," Rusty added.

Andy's laughter died almost immediately. A smile curved Sharon's lips. She lifted her coffee cup and tilted her head. Her lips pursed. She stood there for a moment before she stated simply, "the struggle was real."

"Rusty."

The other man had put his cup down. Rusty nodded appreciatively at the warning. There were things that they didn't want him to see either. "Yeah, I'm out of here." He took his coffee and made a quick exit. "Congratulations though," he called back. He barely made it to the stairs before the low rumble of a male voice and the sound of his mother laughing had him wriggling in a full body shudder. He was glad that his mother was happy, truly, and he had come to really appreciate the Lieutenant's place in his life too… but god save him from horny old people in love.

After finally managing to untangle herself from Andy, Sharon left him to finish his coffee while she followed Rusty upstairs. She wanted to make sure that he knew not to tell his brother and sister their news. It was something that she wanted to tell them herself, with Andy beside her. So far her older children had been fairly removed from her relationship due to the busy nature of their lives. For Ricky and Emily, even with them living together now, the idea was more abstract. Once Rusty had agreed that this was not news that he needed to deliver, Sharon left him to spend the remainder of his day however he planned.

She ushered Andy out of the house and the two of them ran their errands. They went to the plant nursery to pick out items for the remaining flowerbed. Like the rest of the landscaping they had chosen simple, sturdy plants in muted colors that would fit their desert surroundings and busy work schedules.

They spent the rest of the afternoon digging out the space and laying down fresh planting soil. Rusty joined them when he realized what they were up to and took over the more difficult task of digging and framing the plot. The manual labor wasn't his idea of a good time, but he knew that Sharon worried about Andy's blood pressure, and neither of them were exactly young chicks. It was also shaping up to be a pretty warm day, so in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of old jeans, Rusty did the hard part and let his mother and Andy worry about the actual planting and arranging.

Afterward, Rusty showered and left to go meet Gus, thus leaving his mother and her partner to enjoy the rest of their weekend alone. After they had finished their landscaping chores and a few other items on Sharon's list, they decided to go out for the evening. They drove up in to the hills toward Malibu and had a quiet dinner at a cozy little restaurant they had found there, quite by accident, a year before. After dinner they took a walk on the beach, and while it wasn't the snow covered ground that he had originally envisioned, as they stood with the moonlit surf dancing around their bare feet, arms wrapped around one another and swaying with the tide, Andy asked her to marry him again.

They spent a leisurely Sunday morning in bed. After a long night spent enjoying one another and celebrating the future that they were going to have, neither of them was in a hurry to leave the quiet comfort of their shared bed. They passed the morning with soft looks, gentle touches, and quiet laughter as their evening of decadence spilled into their morning hours. It was close to noon before they finally left the bed in favor of a shared shower.

Brunch was a simple affair of fresh fruit and hot coffee and then there was nothing else to do for the rest of the day except enjoy it. The afternoon hours found them on the sofa, Sharon's legs draped across Andy's lap as she reclined at one end of the couch and he sat nearby with his feet propped on the coffee table in front of them. A soft blanket covered her legs and his lap as she lay, wearing a sweater and a pair of shorts, with his hand gently stroking the length of her calf while he watched an old movie and she read. Occasionally his hand would slide a little higher than her knee and she would hum in response. Her hand would find his shoulder between the turning of a page and stroke the length of his arm before her attention was fully captured in the words printed in front of her again. It was an afternoon of quiet companionship, in which they were content to simply be.

Their quiet day was interrupted near late afternoon by the sound of the doorbell ringing. They both looked up as the quiet chimes sounded throughout the front of the house. Andy paused the movie as Sharon drew her legs from his lap. "I'll get it." He leaned over her as he rose and a kiss was pressed quickly and chastely to her mouth. He left her to rearrange herself on the sofa and made his way into the foyer. He was surprised to find Julio standing on the other side of the door. Neither of their phones had gone off during the weekend with more than the usual texts or phone calls from their kids and other family members. "Hey," Andy stood back to let the younger man in to the house. "What brings you all the way out here?"

The Captain and Lieutenant were living in the hills now, not all that far from where her Condo had been in Los Feliz. Their commute was about the same as it had always been, but Julio lived on the other side of town. "Is the Captain home?" He hated to bother them on a day off, especially when they all got so few of them. What he had to share wasn't great news, and he had waited as long as he could before spoiling what was left of their weekend, but Julio wanted them to hear it from him. It would be worse, he knew, if they found out about it at work, especially if it came from some asshole that would enjoy rubbing it in.

"Yeah." Andy frowned at the other man's quiet demeanor. Julio was usually far more jovial outside of work. He jerked his head back toward the family room. "Come on. Can I get you something to drink?"

Julio shook his head as he followed him. "No, thank you. I'm good." He had been in the house before, right after they finished moving in. There had been a housewarming party. He thought it looked a little different now, more settled, more like an actual home. Julio smiled at the still empty den. "I thought you guys were going to finish that?"

"We're still thinking about it." Andy hooked a thumb at Julio as they stepped into the family room. "Look what I found."

Sharon had heard their voices. She was as surprised as Andy that Julio would drop by, but not displeased by it. She smiled brightly as she dropped the now folded blanket on the back of the sofa. "Julio." She had members of her team in her home before, but she wasn't quite accustomed to being so casual in front of them. She swept her hands down her soft, comfortable sweater and tugged a little self-consciously at her simple denim shorts.

"Ma'am." Julio nodded, but smiled a bit. No one would ever equate the woman in front of him to the tough as nails Raydor that they were all accustomed to. With her hair pulled up and her feet and legs bare she looked comfortable and small, and not at all as formidable as he was used to. Julio knew better than to take her appearance for granted, though. "I'm sorry to bother you at home on a Sunday," he stated, "but I thought that there was something that both of you should know."

"Oh?" Sharon waved Julio into one of the wide, comfortable chairs near the sofa, even as Andy reclaimed his place on the sofa and she joined him. They sat with their shoulders and hips touching. When she crossed her legs, he draped a hand casually across her knees. Sharon laid her hand on his arm and leaned in to his side. It was more demonstrative than she usually allowed herself to be in front of those who reported to her, but as Julio had reminded them, it was the weekend and she was at home. Sharon shared a look with Andy before her attention drifted back to the younger man across from them. "Has something happened?"

Julio leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "The other night when we were at _Joe's_ some guys from Hollywood and a couple of other divisions decided to be jerks." He looked at the Lieutenant, and when the other man nodded, Julio continued. He figured that by now Flynn would have told her about it. Julio was glad that they wouldn't have to get in to all of that. "Davidson and his idiot partner Mitchell decided to get a hooker to come on to the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant put her off," he said, "and decided he had enough fun for one night."

Andy hadn't given her all of the details, but she knew the general gist of it. "I excused myself to the men's room," he told her, "the woman they put up to their little joke followed me. She cornered me when I came out, that's when the lipstick thing happened."

"The guys had a good laugh at it," Julio continued. "Some things were said. It got a little heated, but we all left before it could get out of hand." The last thing that they all needed was to get into trouble with the Captain for getting into a fight while defending her honor. "We thought that was the end of it," he explained. "Turns out we were all wrong." Julio sighed as he dug out his phone. He swiped it on and went to his text messages. "I guess Davidson and Mitchell were angry that we cut their fun short." He held the phone out to the Captain. "That's been going around ma'am. It got sent to me this morning. Someone forwarded it as a group message, and I guess they forgot that I was in the group."

Sharon frowned as she accepted the phone. It was a picture of Andy at Joe's. The scantily clad woman in front of him was obviously the source of the other officers' amusement. She was a short blonde, and even in the badly lit photo, Sharon could tell that it was a bottle job. The woman had her face turned in to Andy's neck while he held her upper arms. What the others were taking for a smile, Sharon easily recognized as a pained grimace. She felt him grow stiff beside her as he studied the phone from over her shoulder. When he started to lean away she circled his wrist with her fingers and kept him where he was. More upsetting than the photograph itself was the caption that someone had affixed to it. _Proof Flynn has still got his balls, we got him a real woman_.

Sharon's lips pressed into a thin line. She had seen enough. She passed the phone back to the Detective. "You said that you were sent that photo this morning?" She questioned.

"Yes ma'am. I was at mass," Julio explained. "I didn't see it until afterward, and then Mark and I went to the park." Julio shrugged and gave her a sheepish look. "I also called Mike and we did some checking. It went out to quite a few people. There was nothing that we could do to stop it at that point, and I didn't want to ruin your whole day…" So he had waited until much later in the afternoon.

"Son of a bitch." Andy stood up and paced around the room. He ran a hand into his hair. He was wishing now that he hadn't let the others calm him down the other night. "I shoulda put my fist in that little bastard's mouth when I had the chance."

Sharon cast a disapproving look at him. Violence would not solve the situation. "Thank you, Julio. I appreciate your discretion. Unfortunately you are right, there is nothing that we can do to recall the text now." She sighed. "At this point, where I would have stayed out of what was a tasteless practical joke and a disagreement between off-duty officers, Detectives Davidson and Mitchell have forced my hand." She would have to report them to their commanding officer for disciplinary action. "Tomorrow morning I would like for you and Lieutenant Tao to write up your findings for me."

"Yes ma'am." Julio had a feeling that was where this was going to end up going. He didn't disagree. Davidson and Mitchell had it coming and he hoped that Internal Affairs and HR slapped it to them really good. Their actions the other night had been pretty bad, but now they had crossed a line. Julio turned the phone's screen off and tucked it back into his pocket. "I'm sorry again, ma'am." He stood up, frowning when she joined him. "The Lieutenant's not wrong though," he continued, "we should have kicked the crap out of them. I'm sorry I wouldn't let him do it."

"I will choose to pretend that I didn't hear that." Sharon walked to the door with him, since Andy was now pacing the room and muttering furiously. "Thank you for coming by, Julio. We will handle the situation. Go and enjoy the rest of your day off."

"I will." He smiled sadly at her. "You too," he said, although Julio had a feeling that would be less likely now. "Don't let them bug you ma'am. They're idiots."

"On that we are agreed." She smiled warmly at him. "Give your mother and Mark my best."

Julio nodded. He always did. As he left, he paused. He nodded toward her left hand. "Congratulations."

Sharon followed his gaze to the hand that was resting against the edge of the door. The afternoon sunlight had set the diamond to sparkling. Her smile softened into a more genuine expression. "Thank you."

He left then, and as she shut the door, Sharon's smile faded. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She let it out slowly before she went in search of Andy. He was no longer in the family room. She found him standing on the patio, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and a deep scowl on his face. Sharon laid her hands against his back and leaned in to him. She kissed the side of his neck before her arms wrapped around his middle. "I'm sorry." The officers responsible were having a great deal of fun at both their expense but it was Andy that they had made the butt of their joke.

"I'm not." Andy pulled her around to stand in front of him. His arms circled her. "If this is the price I have to pay to get to have you, so be it. You're not an emasculating bitch, Sharon. The only people who can't see that are the morons with their heads buried up their own asses." He wasn't usually so crass in front of her, but his temper needed an outlet. Andy sighed. "Whatever happens now, they brought it on themselves, so do whatever it is that you have to do. At the end of the day, as long as I get to come home to you, nothing else matters."

She turned her face into his neck and held on to him. He had a right to be angry and upset. She felt much the same way. "You're right," she told him quietly, "this is what matters." They stood there for a while, in the comfort of each other's arms. Eventually they went back inside to try and recapture the quiet peace of the day. It eluded them, dancing just out of reach, so they enjoyed the simple rhythm of shared household chores instead.

When Rusty got home that evening he found them curled together on the sofa. There was an old movie playing quietly, but neither of them was watching it. They had dozed off at some point. He rolled his eyes at them as he went through the house turning off lights and making sure that all of the doors were secured and the alarm was set. It wasn't that late and he figured at some point they would get up and head to bed. They usually did. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at them. Sharon's favorite throw blanket was tucked around her. Andy lay behind her on the sofa, arms and legs wrapped around her, as though she had been cold. Rusty rolled his eyes again. He snapped a quick picture with his phone before he started up the stairs. His mother had told him that he couldn't tell Emily and Ricky that she had gotten engaged, but she never said anything about making sure that they knew that she was already so definitely married.

 **-TBC-**


	3. Chapter 3

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

 **A/N:** Serious spoilers through Episode 511: _White Lies Part 1_. If you haven't seen it yet, you don't want to read this. For the rest of you, once our suspicions were confirmed, I had to rewrite a good portion of the beginning, thus the delay. My apologies!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

In the week that followed, Sharon turned the misconduct of the Detectives that had harassed her team over to their division head. How it would be handled following that action was entirely out of her hands, and once it was done, she turned her attention to other matters. Major Crimes caught a case early in the week and spent several days tracking down the suspects responsible for the deaths of two high school cheerleaders. They had all but wrapped up their case when Sharon was summoned to the Assistant Chief's office.

When Sharon entered she found Chief Howard present with Captain Patrick of Robbery Homicide and Sergeant Staples from Internal Affairs. Sharon's brows lifted as a carefully curious expression settled over her features. She moved into the office to join the three men; her gaze swept over the file that Captain Patrick was holding before it settled on Howard.

It was odd, even now, to see him standing in that office. This was not a future that Sharon had ever envisioned for any of them. She had questioned who would retire first, Russell Taylor or herself, and if a promotion would be forthcoming at that point or not. That idea had been effectively shattered with the Chief's death several weeks earlier. His things were long removed but Sharon could still easily recall the shine of his model planes as sunlight danced off their gleaming wings. She could picture, quite easily, the arrangement of each one on the shelves behind the desk; shelves that now held books and LAPD policy manuals. There were a few personal items on those shelves, a couple of pictures and decorative items, but the office had less of an occupied feel to it than it had before.

Chief Howard always said that he was not a bureaucrat or an administrator. Yes, there was a good deal of his former job as Deputy Chief of Special Operations that did require him to act in an administrative capacity, but Fritz Howard preferred to be active. He could quite easily play the politics within the LAPD, and did so, but he liked to be in on the action too.

Sharon's chin lifted as their gazes met. He had not wanted to accept this position. He planned to only fill the position temporarily. Early on Chief Pope made noises about promoting Sharon into the position. He wanted the transition to be as seamless as possible, but the moment that Sharon's name had been placed into the running, questions were raised. It was not her ethics that were called into question, but the ethical conundrum that her replacement might face. She was romantically involved with a subordinate. She had adhered to every regulation surrounding such a fraternization and Chief Taylor had never noted a moment of professional misconduct on either her part or Lieutenant Flynn's, but there was a greater question at play. While Captain Raydor was incredibly capable of maintaining a professional distance from her significant other, would his next commanding officer be able to do the same?

There was some debate about whether or not Lieutenant Provenza would be offered Major Crimes if Sharon was promoted out of the division, or if he would even want it if offered the job. The Lieutenant would not be an obstacle. He had worked with Raydor and Flynn throughout the start and progress of that relationship. That had not stopped the LAPD brass from raising the bigger question, however. What would happen if Lieutenant Flynn's next commanding officer was put into a position to discipline him and had to report to Raydor about the matter? Would that officer be able to handle the situation? Or would certain actions and behaviors be overlooked out of a sense of intimidation or concern for retaliation.

They were not breaking any rules, but apparently they had provided a management conundrum. It appeared that having Andy as her direct subordinate was much simpler than putting a buffer between them.

Sharon had not allowed a decision to be made, however. There had been a time when she was ambitious enough to welcome a promotion and she would have worked toward that end. When she considered everything that she had in her life at present, personally and professionally, she realized that she would be happier to have things remain as they were. She thought about trading the finer points of investigative work for the administrative duties of Assistant Chief of Operations and decided that she would much rather remain with her team.

 _Her team_.

She had walked into Major Crimes as a much disliked outsider and made the division her own. After five years of some very hard work she was not prepared to walk away just yet. She felt as though they were still just beginning to hit their stride. There was much that they could still accomplish together.

There was also the fact that Lieutenant Provenza had told her, in no uncertain terms, that if she left him with her paperwork _and_ her Flynn that he would make her life miserable. There was no one else that he would prefer to see in the office down the hall, except perhaps himself, and they both knew that would never happen. There was also no one else that he wanted to see in _her_ office, but therein lay the problem. She would end up leaving him with _all_ of her problems, and if he had to put up with Flynn moping about not getting to see her all day, every day, his first order of business would be to have him transferred to Traffic.

That memory played out in the back of Sharon's mind as she stood before the three officers.

" _I thought that he was your Flynn," she had responded, with some amount of humor._

" _Oh no!" Provenza pointed a finger at her. "I have handed over sole custody. You corrupted him. He is now entirely your problem." With that he had gestured grandly to the desk on the other side of the glass. "I have been paroled. Thank you, very much, Warden Raydor."_

 _Sharon rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but as her arms folded across her chest, the Lieutenant took a step forward. "Listen, Captain, we all know our jobs. That isn't the question here. The question is whether or not you really want to move up."_

He had given her a knowing look, and told her to think about it before exiting her office. Sharon realized that he was right. She didn't want it. If she had, she would have put the questions raised by others to rest and suggested the most obvious course of action, which would be the promotion of Lieutenant Provenza to lead Major Crimes. With her team was where she belonged, so Sharon had declined consideration and convinced Chief Howard to remain in the post. He would set the tone for the operations that he managed. It would be, as Russell Taylor had once told her, a reflection of his leadership abilities.

Sharon continued to return the Chief's gaze. Her head tilted after another moment and she considered the other two officers. "Gentlemen, to what do I have the honor?"

"Captain," Howard nodded once. "I'm sorry to pull you away right now, I know your division has had some strict time constraints with your latest case." The deal had been made and the suspects were going to be spending the rest of their lives behind bars. All that remained were the reports and evidence logs, which Fritz knew that her people were currently working on. "This couldn't wait any longer, I'm afraid." He waved at the officer to Sharon's immediate right. "Captain Patrick."

The officer turned. He had regarded Raydor carefully during the silent exchange with the Chief. He held the file in his hand out to her now. "Captain, my team picked up a case the other night and it seems to be overlapping with a situation that Major Crimes was involved in. Our victim," he continued, watching as she opened the file and began to read through the case notes and look over the crime scene photos, "is a thirty-four year old prostitute by the name of Trina Shiloh. Her body was found in an alley in the warehouse district between downtown and Venice Beach."

"I remember seeing the case alert," Sharon stated. She frowned as she looked at the crime scene photos. The victim was a young, slender blonde woman that she did not recognize. "Robbery Homicide rolled out when the body was found, it wasn't a Major Crime, so we didn't pick it up. What has changed?"

"My timeline." Patrick sighed. "Captain, the victim was killed Friday night between nine and eleven. Her body was dumped in the alley; the original crime took place somewhere else. When we tracked her whereabouts that evening we discovered that she was last scene at a bar a few blocks from here that we are all familiar with."

Sharon felt a chill settle over her. She looked up at the Captain. She glanced behind him at Sergeant Staples before closing the file in her hand. " _Joe's_ ," she stated, voice now devoid of emotion. "That is what you are going to tell me, isn't it? Your victim was last seen alive at a bar named _Joe's_ where several members of my team were celebrating on Friday evening."

"Lieutenant Flynn in particular," Sergeant Staples stated. "No one saw the victim alive after the Lieutenant told the victim to…" he paused to look at his notes to get the exact witness statement correct.

"Get off him and leave him the hell alone," Sharon stated for him. Andy had detailed the encounter for her before he turned in his statement on the incident. "That is the quote that you are looking for." She held the file out for Captain Patrick to reclaim. "Can I assume then that this is official notification that you need to rule out the members of my team as suspects? I suppose you will need to question them?"

"That's correct." It was Howard that answered. "Sergeant Staples is here to observe, just to make sure that nothing gets missed. Robbery Homicide is going to be maintaining control of the investigation. As we speak," he continued, his tone growing contrite that he had gone behind her back, "the detectives heading the investigation are pulling your people aside for questioning."

"Excuse me?" In an instant her attention was focused entirely upon the Chief. A chill settled over the room as her tone dropped and her back straightened. "Are you telling me that you have walked into my division, disrupted the work of my officers, and pulled them into questioning without informing their division head or allowing them the opportunity of speaking with their union representatives?"

Howard suppressed the urge to sigh. He knew this would be her response and he honestly couldn't blame her. He would feel the same way. The Chief folded his arms across his chest. "That is exactly what I am saying, Captain."

"Your boyfriend is the primary suspect in the murder of a prostitute," Patrick shot at her, "you didn't think we would give you the opportunity to warn him. Did you?"

Sharon's head turned slowly. Her eyes had gone a lighter shade, like ice, and her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Captain Patrick," she enunciated every word perfectly as the full force of her ire was rested upon the man. "I sincerely hope that you are not invoking a personal relationship that has nothing to do my professional responsibility to the members of my division." Before he could respond, her brow arched. " _All_ of the members of my division, including the Lieutenant that I believe that you just named as a suspect in a murder investigation; a status that, as far as I am aware, is based in large part by a very short encounter that was precipitated by officers that have been recommended for disciplinary action." He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand. "I would go even further to question whether or not, in making that statement, you are prepared to back up your allegations with facts. That is what you are doing, is it not? You are alleging that I have, in some way, acted wholly inappropriately and unprofessionally toward Lieutenant Flynn since my personal relationship with him was reported to my superior officer, as per the regulations on the matter."

The Captain did not like what she was implying, nor did he like that he was receiving a reprimand in front of other officers for doing his job. His stance widened, growing defensive. He scowled at her. "What I am saying, Captain, is that this is a murder investigation and a Lieutenant under your immediate supervision is a prime suspect." His eyes glinted darkly. "I am also saying that you are a secondary suspect. If Flynn didn't kill the prostitute, maybe you did. What's the matter, jealous?"

"Okay, that's going to be enough." Chief Howard had reached his limit for this fiasco. He scowled darkly at the Captain from Robbery Homicide. "You're crossing a line, Captain."

"Am I?" He challenged. "I've got a dead woman, Chief. The last person that saw her alive was Lieutenant Flynn. According to Doctor Morales's notes, she had sexual intercourse right before she died." He cast a superior look at the Captain beside him. "So we'll be needing a DNA sample from your Lieutenant too."

She bristled at the implication. It was meant to be an insult and she took it as such. Her eyes narrowed. "Sergeant Staples," she began, without looking away from Captain Patrick, "are you here to observe my interrogation?"

He shifted uncomfortably, but he took a step forward. "Yes, Captain. We will of course understand if you would like to wait until representation is present." When she did finally look at him the Sergeant offered her a sympathetic look. He was doing his job… just as she had taught him.

Sharon's gaze moved back to Captain Patrick. Her smile was slow and calculating. It would serve him right if she called a union rep, or even a lawyer. Instead she chose to call his bluff. "No, that won't be necessary." She shifted and waved a hand toward the door. "There is an interrogation room down the hall, gentlemen. Shall we?"

"That won't be necessary," Chief Howard interrupted. He cast a pointed look at Captain Patrick. "I'm sure that we can handle this here. Sergeant Staples?"

The Sergeant nodded. "I will record the interview. An audio record of this meeting will suffice." To his knowledge this meeting was meant to be less formal.

"Very well." Sharon took a single step to the side and sat slowly, gracefully, in one of the chairs in front of Chief Howard's desk. "Proceed with your questions, Captain."

Captain Patrick stared back at her for several long moments. Finally he took out a notepad and flipped it open. He clicked on a pen and sent his opening salvo. "Captain would you agree, for the sake of this interview, that you are aware of your rights, or would you prefer that we go through the Miranda warning?"

Sharon cast an almost impenetrable stare back at him. "Yes, Captain, I am aware of my rights, and as we have previously agreed that this is an informal interview, I have waved the option to have counsel present. However, I also understand that I reserve the right to revoke that waver."

"Very well," Captain Patrick stated. He took a breath and then he returned her gaze. "Where were you on Friday evening?"

Her brow arched. He did not specify a time. Her lips pursed for just a moment. She could toy with him, but she decided that she wanted to get this done just as quickly as possible. "I was here until almost seven. Chief Howard and I had a meeting at six that lasted approximately half an hour. Afterward I was in my office completing paperwork. Cameras on this floor and the lobby will confirm exactly what time I left." Her head inclined. "I made two stops on my way home. The first was at the super market, I used my card to purchase groceries. The second stop that I made was at a bakery near my former home in Los Feliz. I paid with cash, but there is a bank across the street. Altogether, both stops, with traffic, I must have arrived home at close to eight-thirty. I was there for the remainder of the evening."

The Captain made note of the times that she gave him, and behind him, Sergeant Staples was doing the same thing. "The stops can be easily corroborated," he agreed. They would have the Captain sign a release so that they could pull her financial records to confirm the purchase that she mentioned at the grocery store. "Is there anyone that can verify that you were home for the rest of the evening?"

"Yes." Sharon stated simply. "I called my son," she paused for a moment before adding, "my elder son, Richard. We spoke for a while, and then I settled in for a quiet evening. I was downstairs reading when Andy got home at around ten. He and I discussed his evening, and the incident with Detectives Davidson and Mitchell, and the young woman, although he did not know her name. That was the sum of our evening. "

"I see." Captain Patrick was making notes. He was silent for a moment before he looked up. He cast a hard look at the other Captain. "Lieutenant Flynn lives with you, is that correct?"

Sharon's eyes narrowed. Had she not just indicated that? "Yes, Captain. The Lieutenant and I share a home, one that we purchased together a couple of months ago, and that is another fact that was reported to my superior officer prior to and at the time of occurrence."

"That must be stressful though," Patrick said. "Moving into a new house. All of the financial juggling, remodeling, decorating… maybe there's even a little bit of buyer's remorse?"

"Make your point, Captain." It was Chief Howard who had interrupted. He wasn't entirely sure that he liked the innuendo. Actually, he was damned sure that he didn't like it, but he couldn't prove that the Captain was going where he thought he might.

"I'm just wondering if with all the stress of the move, if the Captain's personal relationship didn't take a little hit. Maybe Flynn wasn't all that happy at home. Is it possible that he was having a little more fun at _Joe's_ on Friday night than he let on?"

"Are you asking me if Andy likes looking at attractive women? The answer is yes. Am I threatened by that? No." Sharon tilted her head at him. She had taken her partner to task for his more blatant sexist remarks in the past, but he was so adorably oblivious to his behavior that she had easily forgiven him. Her recent insecurities aside, Sharon knew how Andy felt about her. More to the point, she trusted him completely.

Patrick's brow rose. He regarded her carefully. She seemed sure of that, but not overly cocky. "You sound confident, Captain. How do you know what Flynn does when he's not with you? I mean, you've heard the rumors right? I think anyone in the LAPD that has heard about Flynn knows what kind of fun that he likes to get up to when he's not on the clock."

A slow, serene smile curved her lips. She had already had time to examine the other Captain's left hand. He wore a gleaming gold band. "Tell me something, Captain, how often do you spend time with someone other than a member of your family outside of work? I am simply curious. I think I understand exactly the point that you are trying to make, but I have one of my own. Between the crime scenes, court appearances, and the paperwork, how often are you able to go out with friends or persons that are not your wife?" He scowled at her but did not immediately answer. "For the purpose of the audio recording, I am going to go on record and state that Captain Patrick is currently at a loss for how often that can happen. Which is perfectly okay, I think any one of us in this room understands completely. We try to make time for the friends that we have, but we all have very demanding careers. When we have any free time, we would much rather spend it with members of our families. To that end, Captain, I know exactly what Andy is doing when he is not _on the clock,_ as you put it. If he is not with me, Lieutenant Provenza, or his children, there is only one place that he can be found. It is a standing appointment that he keeps every Thursday evening. Furthermore, because we are all aware of what kind of groundwork you were trying to lay, I had absolutely no reason to feel jealous of the victim." That was true enough, in spite of the argument that had ensued because of her. "When Andy left _Joe's_ on Friday evening he came home to me. Next question, please."

Captain Patrick's jaw clenched. This was exactly what he was worried about when he realized that Raydor would have to be questioned. It was why he was doing it and not a member of his division. Damn but the woman was intimidating as hell. "You stated earlier that you thought the Lieutenant got home at around ten o'clock Friday evening. Are you sure of the time?"

"Relatively." Sharon shrugged. "I don't recall glancing at the clock. I do remember considering whether or not I wanted to watch the evening news. My book was far more interesting. Andy came home a few minutes later and I remember thinking that he was home earlier than I expected. Usually when he is out with Lieutenant Provenza I can expect him much later."

He nodded as he made notes. Patrick had nothing to say on that matter. Flynn and Provenza were pretty notorious. "Once he was home, are you sure that the Lieutenant remained there? He didn't leave again during the night?"

"No, he did not." It was all that Sharon said. That was the night that he asked her to marry him. She was absolutely certain that he had not left. Her thumb swept instinctively over the ring on her left hand. The weight of it was not quite familiar yet. They hadn't made any announcements, but they weren't hiding the news either. They just wanted to tell their other kids first.

Captain Patrick sighed. That was all that he had for her. "We will run down some of the answers that you gave us, corroborate the details. We are going to need you to sign a release to pull your financials and phone records so that we can verify your answers."

"I think we both know, Captain, that the reason that you need me to do that is because you do not have the evidence to get a warrant." Sharon pushed out of the chair that she had been sitting in. "For the sake of getting this over with quickly, I will sign the release." Her eyes narrowed and she fixed him with a hard look. "But if I find out that private details have been passed around the LAPD as gossip because members of your division could not act professionally, a full complaint will be filed with Internal Affairs."

"And said officers will be recommended for disciplinary action immediately," Chief Howard stated, backing her up. "Make sure that your division is aware of the fact that this is a murder investigation and not an opportunity for nosing around. I would also like it made clear that we are ruling out our fellow officers and not actively investigating them. Am I clear?"

"Understood, Chief." Patrick closed his notepad and put it away. "That will be all, Captain. You can go now."

"Thank you." Sharon left the office, but not without casting another displeased, almost withering look in Chief Howard's direction.

The minute that she was gone Captain Patrick collapsed into the nearest chair. "Good god." He ran a hand over his face. He slumped into the chair and wondered how hard it would be to get the floor to open up and swallow him whole. "We knew that wasn't going to be easy, but…"

"You didn't completely blow it." Howard walked around his desk and took a seat. "I think you might have crossed the line a time or two, but we can effectively rule Captain Raydor out as a suspect." He held up a hand before Sergeant Staples could intervene, "once we have corroborating evidence from the Captain's financial and phone records."

"Well I couldn't go easy on her just because she scares the hell out of me," Patrick pointed out, "and my entire division."

"You've got an even bigger problem," Fritz told him. "You have about thirty seconds remaining before Captain Raydor finds out that Detectives Lawrence and McNeil took Lieutenant Flynn down to Robbery Homicide for interrogation while Oderno stayed behind to get witness statements from the others."

"This would be a lot easier if we already had the DNA back," Patrick sighed as he stood up. Officers within the LAPD had samples on file and they had already pulled Flynn's for the cross match, but DNA did not come back overnight. They were still waiting for those results. They were hoping they would be able to rule Flynn out before that happened. "Because I've got an even bigger problem than that." He cast a grave look at Howard. "Flynn left that bar at eight, but he didn't get home until ten. It fits my timeline."

"Then you better go find a lot more evidence than you've got right now," Howard told him. "Because right now, Captain, you've got a whole lot of nothing. We're talking about a case that no DDA will touch and the ruined reputation of a damned good cop, and all because a couple of idiots thought it would be funny to toss a prostitute at him for the sake of embarrassing his girlfriend." He picked up a file off of his desk and tossed it toward the corner, near where Patrick was standing. "While you're at it, I suggest that you take a long look at Davidson and Mitchell. The disciplinary report that I received noted that they offered to pay your victim any price she named if she could get Flynn to engage her. Whether he did or not is up to you to find out, but I would start with pulling their financials too and finding out if either of them paid her off."

Patrick picked up the report and added it to the case file that was already in his hand. "We'll look in to it, Chief. No one is looking to ruin any reputations with this. We're trying to handle it as quietly as we can, but something is going to get out. We don't work in a vacuum here."

"Then I suggest you find one to put your team into," Howard warned him. He would not tolerate that kind of gossip. "Keep me updated gentlemen."

It was a dismissal and they took it as such. Patrick headed to the elevator with Staples on his heels. He only hoped he got back to Robbery Homicide before this investigation got ugly.

 **-TBC-**


	4. Chapter 4

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

 **A/N:** All Season 5 Spoiler Warnings remain in effect.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

"Let's go through it again." Detective Eric Lawrence paced around the small interrogation room that was located within the Robbery Homicide offices. Their suite was much smaller than the ninth floor murder room and support offices that were maintained by Major Crimes. What they had on the fourth floor was half the size. They only had a single interrogation room and it was currently occupied.

At the metal table, Lieutenant Flynn sat with a disposable cup filled with coffee on the surface in front of him. His suit jacket was hanging on the back of the chair that he was seated in. His sleeves were rolled up and as the statement was made, he leaned back with a sigh. This was the first time in his career that he had been on this side of the interrogation table. He didn't much care for it. It was bullshit in his opinion. His teeth ground together in frustration as he struggled to hold on to his temper. His eyes burned darkly as he looked up at the two detectives in the room with him. One was pacing, the other was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

"You left _Joe's Bar_ at eight o'clock Friday night," Lawrence continued, "give or take a few minutes. Then what happened?"

Andy arched a brow. He leaned forward again and folded his hands together on the surface of the table. "I drove home. There was a wreck on the freeway. I sat there for almost half an hour before I was able to get off at Jefferson. I cut through the city, up through Miracle Mile and across to Fairfax. Have you ever tried to get anywhere in this city at that time of night when half the population is on it's way home from work and the rest is headed out for a night on the town?" Andy shook his head at them.

"That doesn't take an hour and a half," McNeil pointed out. "You didn't get home until around ten. Maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe you weren't in too big a hurry."

"Or maybe you took a little detour that you don't want anyone to know about?" Lawrence smirked at him. "Come on, Flynn. We all go way back. We know what it used to be like." Lawrence had been in Robbery Homicide with the Lieutenant. He was younger, but not by much. "So what was it, stop off for a drink? Or maybe there was something else that you wanted that you can't get at home?" He walked forward and pushed the crime scene photos back toward the lieutenant. "How about our friend Trina, here? Maybe you took her for a little ride. No one would blame you. She ain't bad on the eyes. I seem to remember the time when the little busty ones were all you cared about." He leaned over the table, hands flat against the surface. "So is that it? Maybe you decided that Davidson and Mitchell were on to something."

"Maybe you thought that what you needed was a private party," McNeil said, picking up the theory where the other detective left off. "There wasn't a whole lot that you could do with your entire division around, not when you're sleeping with the boss. So I think that you took Trina out to show her a good time where none of them would be any the wiser. Did you bang her? A little good time without the old ball and chain knowing about it? No one here is going to blame you." He flashed a mean, smug smile. "I mean, it can't be easy, right? So is that what you did? You took Trina out, showed her a good time?"

They had been over this once already. Andy was well aware of their strategy. He simply stared back at them, looking more bored than upset. He was annoyed as hell, but he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. "No," he repeated. "I got in my car, I drove home, and if you talk about my Captain in that way again, I will file a complaint with Professional Standards."

"Come on Flynn!" Lawrence slammed his hand down on the table. "You screwed her, we all know you did. It's only a matter of time before the DNA comes back and proves it. Save us all some time and at least yourself some pride and admit it. You took the prostitute up on her offer and that's why you were so late getting home to your girlfriend. We're not looking to get you for solicitation. We don't care. What I need to know is if Trina House was still alive when you finished banging her, or if you freaked out realizing what that ball buster that you're living with was going to do and strangled her yourself."

They wanted him to lose his temper, and god only knew it was right there, brimming beneath the surface, but Andy wouldn't give them the satisfaction. His tongue swept over his lips. He glared back at the detectives in front of him. He stood up slowly. The muscles of his long body bunched and stretched. His back and legs ached from having been sitting so long in one position. His shoulders were tight with tension. "If you were going to charge me, you would have done that already. You can't charge me because you don't have anything. You don't have anything because there is nothing to have. This is over."

"It's only a matter of time," Lawrence told him. "You know that we can hold you without charging you." He folded his arms across his chest. "We don't have to let you go anywhere."

"Nope." Andy snatched his jacket off the back of the chair. "You won't." He cast one long, hard look back, "you don't have the balls to try it." To prove their point he walked out of the interrogation room. There was no one waiting on the other side and none of the officers on that level tried to stop him as he stalked through the Robbery Homicide bullpen on his way to the elevator bank. All eyes were on him but Andy stared straight ahead.

It was not until he was in the elevator that he allowed his shoulders to slump. Andy moved to the back of the lift and leaned against the wall. He let out the breath that he had not realized he was holding. He rolled his head around on his shoulders and felt some of the tension pop in his neck. There was a pounding in his ears and an ache behind his eyes, a sure sign that his blood pressure was up. He concentrated on breathing while the elevator rose slowly toward the ninth floor. When it opened he stepped out and made his way toward the Murder Room. There was only one thing on his mind, get his stuff and get the hell out of there as quickly as he could.

He had been downstairs for a couple of hours, so Andy wasn't surprised to find the murder room empty. It had been cleared out and everyone sent home. All except for a single individual. Sharon was seated in his chair, at his desk. Her purse was on the desk beside her and her jacket was in her lap. She was staring at the floor in front of her but as he approached she looked up. Her eyes were tired and a little sad but there was a burning anger behind her gaze. She stood up when he reached the desk. Sharon laid a hand on his arm. "Let's go home," she said quietly.

"Yeah." He spoke stiffly. Andy unlocked his desk drawer and took his gun out. He slipped it into his holster and then he palmed his keys and his phone. "Let's go," he told her. Andy stepped back and let Sharon walk by him. He joined her, walking silently beside her. Normally he would have laid his hand against her lower back, but there was too much emotion simmering beneath the surface. He didn't want to touch her while there was so much bitterness inside of him. When Sharon curled her hand around his upper arm he looked down, a little surprised at the action.

Sharon walked close to him, with their shoulders touching. She tilted her head toward him. Her voice was pitched low. "Look as angry as you need to," she stated, "but do not give any of them the satisfaction of seeing you _emotional_."

His teeth ground together again. "Won't be hard," he bit out. "I'm pretty damned pissed off."

"Good." They stopped at the elevator and she looked up at him. Her green eyes were burning; they were darker than he usually saw them. "So am I."

They left Andy's car parked in the garage across from the PAB and drove home together. It was not always practical for them to carpool, but on this evening, they risked it. Sharon knew that there was very little chance of her division being rolled out during the night, not with recent events.

The drive home was made in silence. Neither of them was prepared to discuss what happened or their current predicament. Sharon sat in the passenger seat with her hands folded in her lap, gaze turned resolutely out the passenger side window as the city moved past. She was perfectly aware of Andy beside her, tense and just as silent. She had glanced at him only once; his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly and his jaw was clenched. When they reached the house, Sharon didn't wait for Andy to come around and open her door for her. She climbed out of the car the moment that the engine was off.

Rusty's car was not in the driveway, but she sent a text while she waited for Andy to unlock the side door that would let them into the house from the garage. The response came while she was hanging up her jacket and resetting the house alarm. Rusty was with Gus, and anticipated being out late. Sharon stepped out of her heels and carried them with her as she made her way upstairs. She didn't know where Andy had gone, but he wasn't in the bedroom when she stepped into it to change for the evening.

Before she did anything else Sharon wanted to shower off the disgusting feeling that day's conclusion had left her with. She set the water in the shower to as scalding as she could stand it and stood beneath it. She let it rain down on her, let it sting and burn and turn her skin red. When she left the shower, despite the heat of it, she was freezing. With her skin flushed and glowing from the near brutality of the water's heat and the way that she had scrubbed herself clean, Sharon dressed in a thick sweater and a pair of leggings. Only then, feeling not exactly better, but at least a little more human, she went in search of Andy.

She was not at all surprised to discover that he had done the same thing. Andy had used the downstairs guest shower and had discarded his suit in exchange for a pair of pajama pants and a long sleeve t-shirt. She found him in the kitchen. He was standing at the counter, glaring at the coffee maker as it filled, going much too slowly for his liking. Caffeine was probably the last thing that they needed at this hour, but that was what Andy did when he was upset. He made coffee. Sharon would rather have had tea, but she chose to ignore it. She walked to the cupboard and pulled down a pair of mugs. Then she stood beside him and waited.

Andy glanced at her but he shook his head. The meaning was clear. _Not yet_. He didn't say anything as the carafe finished filling. Except for the sound of percolating coffee the kitchen remained silent. When it was ready he filled both mugs and turned away from her. He walked over and took a seat at the breakfast table. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, it moved into his hair and made the still slightly damp strands stand on end. When he looked up his eyes were tired. They were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was a fatigue there that very nearly bordered on defeat.

Sharon walked over and sat down across from him. She set the mug of coffee on the table but kept both hands wrapped around it. She allowed the heat that was seeping through the sides chase away the chill in her fingers. "I think," she began carefully, "that we should discuss hiring an attorney."

His head bowed. Andy swore quietly. He exhaled a sigh before he nodded. He didn't like the idea, but he was beginning to think that she was right. The idiots from Robbery Homicide didn't have anything on him because he didn't do anything, but that alone wouldn't stop them. It could ruin his reputation and hers. It could undo some of the cases they had worked recently. It could just be a lot of trouble altogether. He looked up finally. His shoulders were aching. "There's a little left over from the sale of the house…"

"Don't worry about that." Sharon wasn't concerned with their financial situation. "We will work it out." She reached across the table and covered one of his hands with hers. " _We_ ," she stressed, "will get to the bottom of all of this. I'm not entirely certain what Captain Patrick and his team of miscreants thinks that they are doing but you will not be questioned again without representation. Let them deal with a criminal attorney while we focus on unraveling their case and then solving it for them."

"We can't do that." Andy's eyes narrowed. They couldn't take over the case, not with two of their division marked as suspects and the rest of them possible witnesses.

Her brow arched. Sharon's eyes glittered with determination. "Try me." She shook her head at him. "Andy, half of the LAPD was in _Joe's Bar_ on Friday evening. I'm certain if we look, even a little, we'll find that members of Robbery Homicide were present too. As long as you and I are not _actively_ involved in any investigation that we conduct, it's perfectly fine. What I want you to focus on is writing down your exact route home. You'll give it to your attorney and then it can be submitted to Buzz and Lieutenant Tao so that the footage from the traffic cameras can be pulled."

There was something in the way that she said the word _attorney_ , the way that her lip curled just a bit in disgust that had the hairs on the back of Andy's neck standing on end. He studied her closely. Andy was a little wary of the answer as he asked, "Who were you thinking that we should retain?" When she looked into her coffee mug and wouldn't meet his gaze Andy's eyes narrowed. Then she mumbled a name that had him swearing. He drew his hands away from her and leaned back in his chair. "I didn't think it was possible, but this just got worse."

They spent the night talking strategy. They would not allow the bad timing of a tasteless joke to defeat or ruin either one of them. The next morning Sharon placed the call that had Andy stomping around the house in a foul mood. The attorney would be meeting them at the PAB to discuss the situation. Their trip to work that morning was just as silent as their trip home had been the previous evening, although this time Andy's displeasure was more visible in the way that he fidgeted and sighed.

Once they arrived at the office, however, the matter was not discussed again. They both went back to work. There was an obvious cloud over the murder room. The team wanted to talk about the events of the previous day, but knew that they couldn't, or shouldn't with all of the support staff present. There was work to be done too, the reports that were cut short by the arrival of Robbery Homicide. They all focused their attention on those, at least until mid-morning when Flynn's attorney arrived.

He gave Sharon a truly disgusted look after the lawyer was shown into her conference room. "Do I have to?"

She rolled her eyes at him in a bland look. "You do," she stated. "Andy, this is necessary."

He sighed again and folded his arms across his chest. "Couldn't you just call Gavin?" He almost looked a little petulant.

"No," Sharon drew the syllable out as she struggled to maintain her patience. "Gavin is not a criminal attorney. If we decide to sue the LAPD when this is all said and done, he's our man. Until then…" She waved a hand toward the conference room.

Andy's brows screwed into a deep scowl. "Then can we call Jack?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her patience was beginning to wane even more. "We cannot afford him," she said. They could, financially. That was not a problem, and she would have even forced him to work the case at half his usual fee, but it was the headache that came _with_ Jack that they couldn't afford, and didn't want. He would take far too much personal pleasure in Andy's plight, quite possibly to the tune of working the case pro bono, and with everything else that was happening, Sharon was not going to put either of them through that. She sighed and suppressed the impulse to pinch the bridge of her nose. " _Andy_."

"Yeah, okay." He winced at the brittle sound in her tone. He had pushed her just as far as he could, but dammit, it was his ass on the line here. They both knew that Sharon was a distraction. "I'm going. But I don't have to like it." He started toward the conference room, but not without muttering, "she's the devil."

Sharon smirked at his back. "Didn't you used to say that about me?" He grunted at her, but said nothing else. Sharon watched as he walked into the conference room. Her smile slowly fell. She drew a breath and let it out slowly. They had hired Linda Rothman.

Andy wasn't entirely wrong. As criminal attorneys went, she was one of the best, and that made her one of the most… dubious that they happened to know. The mere fact that she had once defended Phillip Stroh made Sharon's skin crawl, but good and tough were what they needed.

She met the other woman's gaze through the glass. Rothman was adamant that she meet with Flynn alone. If she was taking this case, then _he_ was her defendant. If he chose to talk about their meeting with his captain and fiancé, that was up to him, but she would not have outside interference. There was a certain arrogance about the other woman that annoyed Sharon to no end, and when she reached up and closed the blinds to the conference room, Sharon's jaw clenched. Rothman wasn't wrong. In shutting her out they had effectively separated Sharon from Andy's defense. She turned away from the conference room and focused on the rest of her team. It was time to get to work.

They had a case to solve.

It did not take long for word to get back to Robbery Homicide that Flynn had lawyered up. Within the hour Captain Patrick and Detective Lawrence were striding into the Murder Room. They were not willing to show their hand immediately, but they wanted Flynn back in the interrogation room.

Sharon knew that Andy had given Rothman his route home. She waited until the Lieutenant and his attorney left the murder room to adhere to the request from the other division, and then she handed her copy of that route over to Lieutenant Tao. "Start pulling it," she instructed him. She wanted to get ahead of this investigation. Robbery Homicide had used her as a distraction the previous evening. It was her turn now.

It took time. Most of the day. Andy was with Robbery Homicide for almost two hours before the message came to her that he was going to be meeting with his attorney for the rest of the afternoon. She instructed him not to return. They needed to take care of matters from both sides, and Sharon wanted him to be scarce while she took care of hers.

When Tao and Buzz had compiled all of the camera footage from Andy's route home that Friday evening, Sharon joined them in the RACER room, along with Lieutenant Provenza and the rest of their team. "We have him getting off the freeway at Jefferson," Tao explained. As he spoke, Buzz panned the images that they had of the Lieutenant's car on the large screen against the far wall. Mike walked around and pointed at each one. "He stayed on Venice for the most part," he pointed at each of the photographs that were taken at intersections along that road. "Then he got off on La Brea and headed north. We have clear views of the Lieutenant's car until he reached Santa Monica Boulevard. It gets a little harder to track him after he gets in to the hills because there are fewer intersections with cameras."

"There was an accident on the freeway," Sanchez told her. "Traffic was backed up for almost an hour, it isn't hard to believe that the Lieutenant sat there for thirty minutes before he was able to get off."

"Then all we have to do is figure out why it took an hour and a half for him to drive from Arlington, where he exited the freeway, to Coldwater Canyon." Sharon folded her arms across her chest and stared at the screen. "Traffic doesn't look that congested. Were there any other accidents or detours?"

"No. But there's a problem." Buzz wasn't the one that wanted to point it out. He highlighted the two photos in question. "We have the Lieutenant's car at La Brea and 3rd, and again a few minutes later at the intersection at Beverly." Buzz highlighted the third picture and zoomed in on the time stamp. "His car doesn't cross Melrose for forty-five minutes. It only takes ten minutes to get to that intersection in rush hour traffic. At nine on Friday, it should have taken about five."

Sharon's head whipped around. She stared him. "Are you sure?" She felt her stomach drop and then clench painfully. Where would he have pulled off? "Are there any other traffic cameras along those smaller side roads?"

"No." It was Tao that answered. "I pulled the plates on other cars that crossed those intersections at the same time that Lieutenant Flynn did. Their cars moved through the Melrose intersection seven minutes later. Lieutenant Flynn was not with them."

"Then where the hell was he?" Provenza's arms had dropped. He scowled up at the camera.

"What do we have along that route?" Sharon walked around to stand beside Buzz as he pulled the data up on his tablet. Andy hadn't mentioned stopping, but that didn't mean that he hadn't.

"It's mostly residential." Buzz pulled up a city map and zoomed in on the location. "There are some small businesses, a few retail locations, but nothing significant." He looked at the others before his gaze turned back to the Captain. "I checked for churches and family centers, there are a couple in that area, but none that had any Recovery meetings going on Friday evening."

"Captain Raydor."

Chief Howard drew her attention from the door. He beckoned her over and motioned her into the hall ahead of him. "Chief." Her mind was still reeling. Sharon still looked as though she were reeling.

Fritz regarded her for a moment. She looked rattled, and from what he had seen in the RACER room, he could understand why. He sighed as he held out a file. "Judge Grove signed a warrant. Robbery Homicide is picking Flynn up, and SID has been dispatched with them to do a search of the house. I'm sorry, Captain."

It made her feel a little nauseous. Sharon opened the file and on top was the evidence that had played right into the other division's hands. It was a grainy black and white photo but it was clear enough. It looked to be from a security camera. In the photo, Andy was leaning against the hood of his car. Trina Shiloh was perched on the edge of the car beside him.

He had definitely stopped on his way home. He had seen Trina Shiloh again after leaving _Joe's Bar_ , and he had lied about it.

 **-TBC-**


	5. Chapter 5

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

 **A/N:** All Season 5 Spoiler Warnings remain in effect.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Andy was in the kitchen when the knock sounded at the door. He finished slicing through the sandwich that he was making and wiped his hands on a towel before walking through the house to answer the door. He peeked through one of the narrow windows that braced the front door and his brows climbed at the sight of Captain Patrick and his team, along with several patrol officers. Andy drew a breath. His jaw clenched as he opened the door. He pushed it wide but he kept his hand on the edge of the dark, oak door. "Yeah?"

Patrick held up a piece of paper. "We have a warrant, Lieutenant. We're going to need you to step aside." This could go one of two ways, but he was really hoping that the other man made it easier on all of them.

It did not go unnoticed by Andy that Detective Lawrence and at least two of the patrol officers hand their hands on the hilts of their guns, just in case. Andy rolled his eyes at them. He held his hands up and took a step back and to the side. "Come on in."

Captain Patrick nodded. He waved his detectives forward and signaled for SID to join them. A uniformed officer and Detective Lawrence joined him in the foyer with Flynn. "Are you armed?"

"Nope." Andy still had his hands up. "My gun is on the bar," he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. "There's another one in a lockbox upstairs, and Sharon keeps a small .38 in a lockbox in her desk down here." Both were back up weapons and locked away, but he reported them, as was the regulation.

Lawrence nodded to the uniformed officer with him and he stepped forward to grasp Flynn's arm. He turned the Lieutenant around and gave him a quick pat down. When the uniformed officer nodded and gave the clear, he relaxed. "Is there anyone else in the home right now?" They knew that Raydor was still at the PAB.

Andy sighed. Their timing couldn't be worse. "Yeah. Sharon's son lives here. He's up in his room."

"We're going to need you both to step outside while we search the house," Captain Patrick informed him. "You know the drill, Lieutenant. I suggest that we keep this as simple as we can for everyone."

"Simple?" Andy scowled at him. "You just showed up with a warrant and a full SID team to search my house. There's not a damned thing about this that is simple." He slanted a look at Lawrence and his lip curled in disgust. "I always expected better of you." They had gotten along well when they were in Robbery Homicide together. Lawrence was always one of the better ones.

"You know something," Lawrence shot back at him. "A lot of us are thinking the same thing right now." He jerked his head toward the door. "Get him out of here."

Andy yelled for Rusty to come down stairs before he went. He didn't want the kid surprised by cops pounding on his bedroom door. He joined the older man outside, looking confused and upset. "What the hell is going on?"

"Don't worry about it." Andy already had his phone out. "It's just a misunderstanding." While the LAPD was searching his house, Andy placed a call to his lawyer. They had a feeling that this might happen.

It was game time.

While Andy was on the phone with his attorney, Rusty was on the phone with his mother. "Mom. What is going on? There are cops here and they are searching the house." His eyes widened as a group of SID technicians rounded the vehicles in the driveway. "They're searching my car," he said, almost screeching. "Why are they searching my car!"

"Rusty." Sharon tried to summon as much patience as she possessed. She spoke calmly, but her words still carried an edge. "I am going to need you to calm down. The officers are doing their jobs. The warrant that they obtained allows them to search all vehicles on the premises. Your car fits that criteria."

"But why?" He still didn't understand. He ran a hand into his hair. Rusty wondered if this had anything at all to do with the very hushed and strained conversation that his mother and Andy were having when he got home the previous evening. They had both seemed upset but didn't seem to want to tell him about it.

Sharon's sigh was audible through the phone connection. "Rusty, I am afraid that Andy is in a little bit of trouble. I cannot give you all of the details right now, but believe me when I tell you that not everything is what it looks like. We are going to do everything that we can to get to the bottom of this quickly. Until then, I am going to need you to do everything that the officers ask you to do while they are in our home. They may have some questions for you; just answer them truthfully. Understand?"

"Yeah." He looked across the yard. Andy had walked away, but he was well within the purview of the officers that were keeping an eye on him. Rusty frowned at his back. The last time that he heard Sharon sound this strained it was months ago. "Mom, are you okay?"

She was silent for several moments. She had always promised to be honest with him. "I cannot answer that right now," she told him. Sharon really didn't know the answer. "But you can help me out by doing what I asked."

"Okay." Rusty sighed. "Mom, this is really freaking me out."

"Yes," Sharon could agree with that. "I am feeling rather _freaked out_ by it too. Rusty, I have to go. I will talk to you soon."

Rusty hung up his phone and placed it back in his pocket. He continued to watch the officers and techs that were moving around the cars, and the others, that were going in and out of the house. They stood outside, just waiting, for what felt like forever. They were taking things out of the house, but Rusty couldn't tell what, it was all wrapped up in brown paper bags. Rusty didn't think that was good. His gaze moved back and forth between the techs and Andy. The Lieutenant had been on his phone a couple of times.

Just as Rusty was getting ready to walk over and demand an explanation, more of one than Sharon could give him, the detectives that had made him leave the house came out again. They walked over to Andy, along with a uniformed officer. Rusty inched closer, wanting to hear what was happening.

"You know we're going to have to take you back down to the PAB now," Patrick told him. "We'll make sure that the Captain and your lawyer get a full inventory of everything we took."

"There was nothing in there for you to take." Andy scowled at them. "What the hell is this? What is it that you're looking for, huh? Whatever you think happened with your victim, she was sure as hell never in my house!"

"That remains to be seen." Patrick said. He exchanged a look with Lawrence and nodded.

"Lieutenant Flynn," the Detective took out his handcuffs and moved behind the other man. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you…"

It was like he was watching a bad movie. Rusty's jaw dropped open. He stared, horrified, as Flynn was literally put into handcuffs and then guided toward an unmarked squad car. His stomach dropped and rolled alarmingly. His hands swept into his hair. "What the hell!"

Andy looked toward him. His eyes were hooded, his jaw clenched. "Call your mother," he bit out. It was all that he had time to say before he was placed in the back of the car and the door was closed.

Rusty fumbled for his phone. It took two tries but he managed to finally call Sharon. When she answered, he blurted what was happening. "Andy has been arrested."

"Yes," she said sadly, "I know." There was a pause before she continued. "When the officers are finished with the house they are going to allow you to pack a bag. They are going to release your car. I want you to go and stay with Gus."

"But Mom—"

"Rusty," she spoke sharply. "Go and stay with Gus. I will take care of this. As soon as I know what is happening, I will tell you."

"Okay." He swept a hand over his face. "Mom, what did he do?"

She was silent for the space of several heartbeats. When Sharon answered her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. "I don't know Rusty, I just don't know."

He didn't hang up until she reminded him, again, that he was to go and stay with Gus. She wanted him out of the way. Rusty didn't know if that was a great idea, but he understood it. Sharon didn't want to have to worry about him on top of everything else.

It wasn't long before one of the officers was coming over to give Rusty the okay to get his stuff. Walking into the house felt a little odd. There were still officers milling around. Rusty didn't know what he expected. The place wasn't trashed, but it had obviously been searched. Rusty wondered what it was that they were looking for. He didn't have long to linger, though, and didn't want to. He packed a bag and got out of there as quickly as he could. Even though they were cops, it felt, oddly enough, kind of like the house had been violated somehow.

Rusty only hoped that whatever was going on, they were able to figure it out quickly, and that it wasn't as bad as it looked… because at the moment, it looked really bad.

When Sharon had finished speaking to Rusty she placed a call to Andy's attorney to make sure that she was aware that he had been detained. Linda Rothman was still in court, but the message was left with her assistant. The attorney would have to handle things when she was available. In the meantime, she was still trying to make sense of all of the evidence that had been placed before her. It was all pretty damning, as far as visual evidence went, if not in the case of Trina Shiloh's murder, then definitely to her relationship with the man.

Sharon wanted to trust him. Every instinct that she had was telling her that she should trust him. What she could not deny were the facts that were in front of her. To make matters more confusing her mind kept going back to Friday evening. Andy had come home late, smelling of cheap perfume, and he was immediately on the defensive when questioned about it. There was a lot of his story that her team could corroborate. There was a lot more that had gaping holes in it.

She waited until well after normal working hours before she decided to have that conversation with Andy herself. He was in holding, but it was a small room on the fourth floor. As she understood it, he had been processed in, but they could not put him in general population because it would be too dangerous. There were those that he had placed there, and others that would take a great deal of pleasure in getting retaliation against a police officer.

Sharon strode through the Robbery Homicide bullpen with purpose. She could feel the eyes of every detective present on her as she moved through the room. Sharon stepped into the open door of Captain Patrick's office and fixed the man with a hard stare. "Where is he?" There was no preamble, no small talk. They knew exactly whom she was talking about. She had waited this long and the emotions that she had allowed to simmer could be heard in the harsh undercurrents of her tone.

Patrick stared back at her. He saw Detective Lawrence stand up. Patrick looked past her and gestured to the Lieutenant. "Lawrence will take you to him."

She turned on her heel and marched past the other officer. She didn't slow her gait until she had made it out of the bullpen. In the hall, Sharon stopped and waited. She turned a cool look on the Detective. "Lead the way."

He almost winced at the hard, steel tone in her voice. Eric Lawrence walked past her. He took her down the hall and around the corner, the opposite direction from where she had come from. There were two uniformed officers posted on the door. Lawrence nodded to them before he stepped up and opened the door. He held it open for her and stood to the side. "I can give you fifteen minutes," he told her, "after that, we're going to have to lock him down."

"Understood." Sharon stepped into the small room but kept her gaze on the Lieutenant until he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Her jaw clenched when the door clicked shut. She turned slowly. The pale beige walls gave the room a completely emotionless feel. It was as it was meant to be, a holding cell, although instead of bars, there were walls. Sharon swept her tongue over her teeth and rubbed her lips together. At her sides, her hands clenched together. There was a toilet, a cot, and a small table. It was everything that she would expect to find in a jail cell.

Andy was seated on the cot. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. He looked up at her. They stared at one another and Sharon tried not to feel the twisting in her gut at the sight of him in the pale blue jumpsuit. She clenched her jaw more tightly closed and concentrated on taking a breath, in through her nose. She exhaled slowly and her brows rose. "Do you need anything?"

He shook his head and looked down again. "I'm not really allowed to have a lot," he said, voice rough. Andy stared at the tiled floor between his feet. It wasn't a damned vacation after all.

Her teeth ground together. Sharon stared at the top of his head. She could feel the emotion building in her. It burned, hot and bitter, and more than she could stand. She could taste it, like bile, in the back of her throat. "Look at me," she said, speaking slowly, voice low.

He sighed before he looked up again. Andy gazed up at her. His eyes were dark, but kept carefully blank. "I've been sitting here for three hours," he bit out between clenched teeth. "What is it that you want me to say to you, Sharon?" His eyes flashed suddenly and he let her see the full extent of his anger. "It must have been important. It sure took you a hell of a long time to get down here."

Her eyes widened. Whatever she had expected, _this_ was not it. Sharon's mouth opened but there was no sound immediately forthcoming. It took her a moment to realize that of the two of them _he_ was angry with _her_ for this situation. "Do not," she warned him. Her eyes glittered angrily. Sharon took a step forward. "From where I am standing you are the last person who has any reason to take that tone of voice with anyone, least of all me." She pointed a finger at him. "Not only did you lie to me, but you have cast some serious doubts on quite a few things, the least of which is our personal relationship. So I will ask you again. Do you need anything?"

Andy looked away from her. He shook his head. His shoulders slumped again. "No. I saw Rothman, she's taking care of it," he said more quietly.

Sharon studied him. He kept reaching for his pinky. Twisting that ring was a nervous habit of his, but it wasn't there. His bracelet was gone too. He never took that chain off; he had gotten it from his father. In the pale jumpsuit and white undershirt he seemed small, diminished. Sharon could feel the sting behind her eyes. " _Andy_."

His name was a whisper that made him wince. He heard the tremor, the hitch in her voice. His jaw clenched. Andy looked up at her. There were tears glistening in her eyes. It made his heart twist. "I didn't," was all that he said.

She watched his gaze drop, but more briefly this time. It had gone to the ring on her left hand that her thumb was twisting on her finger. When he looked up again, there was such hopelessness in his gaze that she had to look away. Sharon folded her arms across her chest. She nodded once. "Okay." That was all that she needed to know. She swallowed back the emotion. She exhaled a shaky breath and looked at him again. "Okay," she said again. "I will… speak to Ms. Rothman," she said, and managed to get some of the tremor out of her tone. "We will go from there."

He wanted to touch her. His hands were itching with the need. Andy stared at her, it was a physical pain to have to keep himself on the cot. He could feel the muscles in his shoulders and arms tense. There were cameras in the room, however. The minute he tried the officers would step in and separate them. Not to mention she had enough on her plate right now without some asshole passing that picture around for the hell of it. "Sharon."

Her name was spoken so low, rasping in the small room. It sent a shiver up her spine. She clasped her arms more tightly around herself. Sharon dug her heels in to keep from going to him. There was so much more going on than she could readily see, but that did not stop her body's physical response to him. It did not stop the ache in her chest or the need that welled within her. It could not stop her from wanting him, or needing him, and it could certainly not stop her from loving him. She averted her gaze when her vision blurred. Sharon stared at the floor. "We will get a copy of the inventory," She managed to say, voice thick and trembling, "and go over the items that were taken from the house. There must be some meaning in them, something that will give us an idea of what it is that Captain Patrick and his division have that they think is evidence. It must be something beyond a photo of…" She stopped. Her eyes closed. She could not get the image of Andy sitting on the hood of his car beside the now dead prostitute out of her mind's eye.

"Sharon." He waited for her to look at him. "I didn't," he said again. There wasn't much else that he could say. They had no expectation of privacy. He just needed her to hold on to that, no matter what else happened. "Get my stuff," he told her instead. "I don't trust these yahoos not to lose everything."

"I will," She promised. "I will see you at the arraignment," she told him. "They will keep you here for as long as possible. We will do what we can to get you released." On bail if nothing else, but Sharon was going for clearing him completely and then nailing the whole of Robbery Homicide to the wall.

"Do what you can." Andy shrugged. He looked around the tiny room and then gave her a sad smile. "Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere."

It was almost more than she could stand. She managed a small, watery smile in return. "Just try to stay out of trouble," She said. "I will see you soon."

"Yeah." Andy watched her turn. When her hand touched the door, he called her back. "Sharon." She looked at him, but what he wanted to say, he couldn't. Not here. He shook his head instead.

She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. She could see in his gaze all that he wanted to say. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. "Me too," she mouthed silently. Before it became even more difficult to leave, Sharon reached up and knocked on the door. It clicked open a second later and she was free of the tiny holding cell. If anything, as her steps carried her away from it, the weight on her chest grew. The farther away she got, the harder it became to breathe.

Detective Lawrence was waiting for her at the end of the hall. He had obviously listened in on the visit. It made Sharon's skin crawl. He held a clear, plastic belongings bag and a clipboard. "You'll have to sign for it, but you can take it."

She glowered at the man. Sharon took the clipboard from him and quickly scrawled her name in the appropriate space. Then she accepted the plastic bag. His clothes were folded within, but on top of it all, and in a smaller bag within the larger one, there was his wallet, his phone, his bracelet, and his sobriety ring. Sharon clasped the bag tightly. She nodded as she turned. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Sharon turned on her heel before he could speak again and moved down the hallway toward the elevators. She drew quick, shallow breaths as she concentrated on walking. When she rounded the bend in the corridor her gait sped up again. Sharon walked past the elevators and through the door at the end of the hall. It took her into the stairwell.

She wasn't going to make it back to her office. Sharon barely noticed the slamming of the door behind her. She gripped the cool metal of the stair rail with one hand and sank to the steps. She drew her knees up and hugged the plastic encased package to her chest. Then she took quick, ragged breaths. She could not breathe, and she could not think, she could do nothing but feel, and what she felt was a rising tide of pain that was threatening to consume her.

Sharon didn't know how long she sat in the stairwell. It was long enough to push back the full force of her emotional upheaval, to bury it beneath as many layers of armor and professionalism as she could summon. She talked herself through all of the things that needed to be done, through the investigation that was still pending, and the conversations that would need to be had. She concentrated on breathing and let her logical mind take over. When Sharon felt as though she was once again grounded, she rose and left the stairwell.

She took the elevator back to the ninth floor, and once she arrived, she was surprised to find the Murder Room occupied, and not as she had left it. Sharon had specifically waited to go and see Andy until after the others had gone. Sharon stopped just inside the room and looked around. They were each at their desks. Tao and Julio appeared to be going over phone records. Amy was bent over a transcript of some kind, with Cooper seated at the desk behind her, also hard at work. Sharon was also surprised to find that even Lieutenant Provenza appeared to be studying a document of some importance. "I thought that I told all of you to leave and get some rest."

"We did." The Lieutenant looked up. He leaned back in his chair. "We left, and we rested all the way to get dinner. Then we rested while we ate it. Wouldn't you know it?" He spread his hands wide. "We rested all the way back here too." Provenza leaned forward in his chair again and turned his attention back to the financial report in front of him. "By the way, we got you that god-awful salad that you like. It's on your desk." He waved in that general direction. "Go eat it."

"I…" Sharon's mouth quickly snapped closed when she realized that she didn't know what to say. She walked toward her office but stopped. Sharon took a few steps toward center of the room. "Chief Howard was very clear this afternoon that this is not our case," she said carefully.

"We don't have any other cases," Tao pointed out. "None of us clocked in. We are just…" He shrugged and gestured simply, "volunteering our time for a few administrative duties. I heard Robbery Homicide is short-staffed."

Julio raised his hand. When she looked at him, he returned her gaze, his own serious and concerned. "Ma'am, I feel like I'm having a problem."

There was too much mischief behind his gaze for her to fully believe his words. Sharon cleared her throat and took another step forward. "Yes, Detective," her voice still husked a bit with emotion, "what is it?"

"It's this transition, ma'am." Julio leaned forward with his elbows braced against his desk. "The shrinks told us that we should report any issues to our ranking officers. I'm feeling some issues. I think that it could manifest itself in an apparent case of insubordination. I feel like I should find something to concentrate on, Captain." He lifted the pages of phone records that they had pulled. "This seems satisfactory."

Sharon folded her lips together to stop the smile before it could curve her lips upward. She nodded once. "Yes, Detective, that seems as though it is sufficient enough to occupy your mind for a little while. Lieutenant Cooper," She turned to the SIS officer. "What are you doing here?"

He wasted no time in turning in his chair and pointing at Amy. "She made me." When his girlfriend just rolled her eyes toward him in a bland look, Cooper grinned. He stood up. "Look, Captain, with all due respect," he began, sobering, "one person isn't going to solve this case alone. We all know that it's bullshit. What the Lieutenant did or did not do in your personal relationship, that's between the two of you," he told her. "I don't care. What I care about is a good cop getting a bad rep because some lazy SOBs found an easy out. So I came to help out, if that's okay. I'm off duty," he promised her.

Sharon turned where she stood. They were all resolute, and as they said, not a one of them was currently on duty. Technically, they were not breaking any rules. Her attention landed on Lieutenant Provenza last. He shook his head at her. "It's not the boyfriend, it's not the boyfriend," his expression softened just a bit, "it's _not_ the boyfriend. Flynn might be an idiot but he's not a murdering one. Any moron can figure that out. He might have to sit in a cell tonight," Provenza explained, "but he will not be there tomorrow night." He nodded. On that they had his word. No matter what he had to do to make it happen.

"Very well." She was at a loss for anything else to say. "I will leave you to your work. Let me know if you find anything." Sharon turned on her heel and quickly sought the sanctuary of her office. The blinds were already drawn, they had been most of the day. When she was inside with the door closed she pressed her fingers to her lips. Her eyes closed against the sting of fresh tears. They were not doing it for her, and she was not surprised by their actions, but she was still touched by it. Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. She walked to her desk, and as the Lieutenant had said, the salad that she preferred from the grill a few blocks over was waiting for her. Sharon didn't feel exactly like eating just yet, but she was grateful to them for it.

She placed Andy's things on her desk and stared at them through the clear plastic. After only a moment she dug into the bag and pulled out his wallet and phone. The former went into her purse. She also placed his bracelet in her purse. The sobriety ring she held on to. She slipped it onto her index finger, the only one that it would fit without sliding off. Then she sat down with Andy's phone and connected it to her laptop. She felt a little guilty at the intrusion, but if there was anything on it, she decided that Robbery Homicide would have already found it. Sharon wanted to find anything that they had missed, however small, that would completely exonerate him.

 **-TBC-**


	6. Chapter 6

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

 **A/N:** All Season 5 Spoiler Warnings remain in effect.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

"Are you telling me that _Robbery Homicide_ ," the way that Provenza spoke those words left no doubt in anyone's mind that he was using it in the most derogatory way that he could, and still get away with it, "was able to get a warrant to search the home of an LAPD Captain and Lieutenant, to arrest said Lieutenant, and all we have to go on is a gap in traffic camera footage," he waved at Tao as he spoke, "one horribly grainy security picture, that none of us can seem to figure out _where_ it was taken," he flung his arm in Buzz's direction, "and the inventory of the house search?" This he had in his other hand and he waved it at them. "Is this a joke?"

Lieutenant Provenza was standing in the middle of the Murder Room. He turned as he spoke and looked at every member of the team, including the Captain. No one could explain it. They had been at this for hours now. They could not seem to unravel whatever case it was that Robbery Homicide believed to have built against Flynn.

Before anyone could respond, the Lieutenant continued. "I know that there is a certain birthday coming up," he said gravely, "but if anyone here thinks that _this_ is a good idea for the usual decade changing practical joke, I swear on my crossword, I will personally take my foot and put—"

"Lieutenant." Sharon interrupted him before he could finish. "I promise you, this is no joke." She was seated in a chair between Julio and Mike's desks. "Robbery Homicide has been uncharacteristically careful with their evidence and case."

He shot a bland look at her. "You don't say." Provenza turned the inventory in his hand over and read it. "Let's see. They took from your house. One laptop computer, one shirt, one pair of pants, some male unmentionables that…" He looked up at her over the paper, "I am not going to mention, and a pair of gardening gloves with a suspicious brown stain. They have also had Flynn's car pulled into the print shed, and there is not an SID report posted anywhere on it."

"Not to mention the fact," Sharon said, "that they gave me back his phone. Which, one would think, would have some kind of evidence on it if the entire basis of their motive is the belief that Andy hooked up with the victim before he supposedly killed her." Sharon picked up the iPhone and held it aloft. "He never wipes his phone. He is always complaining that he is almost out of space. Rusty has to clear his browsing cache for him because the last time that he tried to do it himself, he deleted the browser." She held up a hand before Tao could interrupt. "I do not know how. He did. Let's leave it at that."

"What about the call log," Julio asked her. "There was nothing on that?" He leaned forward and reached for the phone.

"A couple of numbers that I do not recognize," Sharon pointed out, "but that isn't unusual. After we bought the house we both went through a period of telemarketing calls. They were finally tapering off. I did check the numbers against what Robbery Homicide has listed as Ms. Shiloh's known contact information; they don't match."

"What about this one?" Julio indicated the call that was received on Friday evening, just after nine that night. The Lieutenant would have just left the bar. He gave her a skeptical look. Julio worried if she was too close to the case.

"Dial it." Sharon shrugged at him. "It goes to a full mail box. Also, the call was clearly received and not placed. I logged in to the wireless account. Even if Andy had managed, somehow, to delete his call logs… he couldn't remove them from the account."

"Wait." Provenza's head whipped around. "You have a joint phone account now too?" His nose wrinkled. He made a face at her.

"Of course." Sharon was surprised by his response. "Don't you?" Her head inclined. "We got the family plan discount."

"Really?" His brows rose and he turned more fully toward her.

"Oh god." Tao rolled his eyes. She had said Provenza's favorite word. _Discount_. They would be there all night if he was given the chance to really get into it. "I checked the SID system for analysis results on any of the items that were taken from the house. Nothing."

"The clothes they took were probably what Andy was wearing Friday evening," Sharon stated. "Neither of us have had time to do a drop at the cleaners this week. The laptop is Andy's, but he only uses it to pay bills. Or check sports scores. Fantasy football… normal things." Julio snickered and she glared at him. "I am not talking about _your_ version of normal, Detective." She continued to glare at him until he stopped laughing. Once he sobered, she turned her attention back to Lieutenant Tao. "The brown stain will be blood, but they will find that it does not match Andy or the victim." Sharon rolled her eyes. "Gardening is rarely a simple endeavor. Particularly when one's partner is a little… stubborn."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Provenza shook his head at her. "So the blood is yours? Can you prove that?" He asked smartly, because he knew that Robbery Homicide would probably demand it.

Sharon unfolded her legs and turned sideways in her chair. She lifted the hem of her skirt just an inch. There was a two-inch bandage on the side of her thigh. "He apparently meant his left and not mine."

"He touched it with his gloves?" Provenza's face screwed up into a disgusted look again. "What kind of life are you people living?"

Julio lowered his head and snickered when the Captain's glower was turned on the Lieutenant, almost full force. Sharon's lips pursed. "No, Lieutenant, he did not. I did. I was wearing the gloves. Can we move on now?"

"Yes, yes," Provenza waved a hand at her, rather imperiously. "You are absolutely correct, let's go back to _my_ original point. How did those troglodytes manage all of this?"

His word usage drew all of them up short. All of them but Julio. He leaned toward the Captain and said quietly, "His grandson really likes Jurassic Park, ma'am."

Her mouth made a small 'o' but she didn't fully understand what that had to do with it. Sharon decided to take the Detective's word for it. She shook her head and decided to ignore it. "I think the bigger questions, Lieutenant, are why they are being so secretive and why Judge Grove would sign off on so little evidence." She would like to ask him, but couldn't. It would be seen as taking advantage of their friendship, and she couldn't say completely that she wouldn't be.

"We have much bigger problems than that." Buzz, who had been silent through out the entire exchange, rose from his desk. "That picture is a fake." He walked over to join Tao at his desk and indicated that he should open it. "Zoom in," he told him. "Again…" Buzz had him continue doing that until it had reached almost maximum pixilation. "Here, see it?"

Tao leaned close to his monitor. "Good catch El Buzzo!" He highlighted the edges they were looking at and then zoomed the picture out until the others could see it. "The edges don't match up," he told the Captain. "This is definitely Flynn, sitting on the hood of his car, but the victim has been edited into it, and not very well."

"Well enough." Sharon leaned forward. She could barely make out what they were talking about. It was not until they fully pointed it out, and she could see where part of Andy's car was missing where the victim's leg was supposed to be resting atop it, that Sharon was convinced. "How did they miss this?"

"Again, I ask…" Provenza looked heavenward. "Does anyone hear me? Am I speaking to myself…"

Sharon ignored him. "Okay, if Andy was not with Trina Shiloh on Friday evening, who was he with, and _where_ was he?"

"And where was Trina Shiloh," Buzz said helpfully, "because that is the outfit that she was wearing at the bar Friday evening. She was definitely somewhere if someone took a photo of her."

"Indeed." Sharon stood up and folded her arms across her chest. Her lips pursed and she thought for a moment. Finally she reached for Andy's phone and passed it to Mike. "Dump it. The whole thing. Back up any photographs or videos, but dump everything else. Trace that number, the one that he received the call from Friday evening. I want to know whose mailbox it is going to. Amy, call Doctor Morales. He may not be able to rush DNA tests, but see if he has a type match yet. Andy is AB negative."

"What about the rest of us, ma'am?" Julio looked up at her. There was a new sense of energy in the air, they could all feel it.

"I want you to take Buzz and that photograph and trace Andy's route Friday evening. See if you can figure out where that picture was taken. Maybe there were other security cameras in the area, cameras that were overlooked." As Julio and Buzz rose to do as she had asked, Sharon turned back to Lieutenant Provenza. "Feel like having a conversation with your partner?

A smile lit his face. Provenza rubbed his hands together. "I thought you would never ask."

Sharon nodded. She turned on her heel and led the way out of the Murder Room. She wouldn't go in with him, but she would see to it that he was able to speak to Andy. If they managed to record the conversation too, well, that would be even better.

Andy wasn't sleeping. He hadn't thought that he would be able to, and he wasn't. Who could sleep in a place like that? For one thing the lights, even dimmed, were still too damned bright; the mattress on the cot was too thin, and Sharon wasn't there. Those were just a few reasons, but hardly the entire list. There was also the fact that he was in that place to begin with. That was a big damned reason to not be able to sleep.

He sighed as he sat up on the edge of the cot. Andy had been up and down through out the night. He had paced the cell for a while and then he laid down for a bit. He went back and forth between the two activities. It was going to be a long night.

The last thing that he expected was to have the door opening again. Lawrence and his partner had been back in after Sharon left. Andy figured that was it for the night. The lights in his cell came back on full and he blinked against the sudden brightness. Andy frowned as the door to his cell swung open. His expression only deepened into a scowl at who stepped inside. "Remind me to talk to my lawyer about the cruel and unusual forms of punishment that are used by the LAPD," he drawled.

"Oh, you're a funny guy aren't you?" Provenza waited until the door closed behind him before he walked over and took a seat at the single chair that occupied the cell. It was bolted to the floor. "Wait until we feed you, then you'll really have something to complain about." He pointed a finger at his partner. "You are an idiot."

"Pretty sure you're not allowed to talk to me like that right now." Andy laid down on the cot and steepled his fingers against his stomach. "What do you want? I'm trying to sleep here." The last person that he wanted to deal with at the moment was Provenza. He had a feeling that this little meeting wouldn't be good for either of their blood pressure.

Provenza snorted at him. The Captain had gotten him in to see his partner by stating that he was now a suspect in another case as well. The officers in charge of watching the cell had let him in. No one from Robbery Homicide was around to question or deny her little misdirection. "I think it's time you start talking. We can't get you out of this stupidity of yours if you don't tell us what you did." He shook his finger at Flynn. "Whatever you stopped to do, no one cares. We've got bigger issues and you need to come clean. For one thing, we need to figure out who is framing a cop, why the Chief is going along with it, and who really killed Trina Shiloh."

"Or you can let my lawyer handle it and not get me into any more trouble than I already am." Andy shook his head. "Let it go, Provenza. Don't make it worse than it already is. Robbery Homicide doesn't have anything because there's nothing to have. Rothman will take care of it."

"I never thought I would hear those words." He leaned forward in his seat. "Okay, how about this, while you're waiting for your lawyer to take care of everything you're making the woman that you plan to marry look like a fool. If the fact that you're screwing around on her isn't bad enough, now people are going to wonder how much she's covered for you in the past…." He trailed off with a smile at the dark look that his partner cast on him. That got Flynn's attention. "Where did you go Friday night?"

"Home." Andy scowled darkly at him. "I already answered all of these questions for Robbery Homicide."

"Well now you're going to answer them for me," Provenza snapped. "Where did you go? We both know it wasn't home. There's a forty-five minute gap on the traffic cameras. That picture of you with the vic, we know it's fake, but the background is real enough. You stopped off somewhere. Where was it?"

"I stopped and put gas in my car. Paid cash." Andy went back to staring at the ceiling above them."

"That didn't take forty-five minutes, try again." Provenza leaned back. "I can stay here all night," he said. "I want to know why you're lying to all of us. Where did you go Friday night?"

"I told you. I stopped and put gas in the car, then I went home." Andy closed his eyes. "There's nothing else to tell."

"There's not a gas station between those two blocks," Provenza pointed out. "Try again." He stood up and paced around the cell. "You went off grid for forty-five minutes. Robbery Homicide showed up to search your house and arrest you with nothing more than a security picture and a second hand account of you meeting Trina Shiloh at _Joe's_. If that wasn't enough to tell me that you know exactly what is going on here, then the fact that you've gone along with all of it is. What did you do Flynn?"

"Talk to my lawyer." Andy kept his eyes closed but his teeth were grinding together. "Nice lady. Attractive blond. She's way out of your league, but if you smile real nice she'll probably tell you to take a flying leap and get your nose out of a case that has nothing to do with you."

"I think we should be more concerned about the porn collection that SID is going to find on your laptop. The fiancé thinks you're an innocent daisy. Okay, so you stopped on the way home, what? Did you have a drink? Run in to an old friend? An old flame maybe?" His lips pursed as he thought about it. Provenza rubbed his chin. "No, I don't think so. I think you talked to someone, and I think it was someone connected to this case. I think that you're in over your head and you're too stupid to realize it."

Andy sighed. He sat up on the edge of the cot. Provenza wasn't going to leave him alone. "You know as much as I do. Even if you didn't, do you think I would talk about it _here_?" Andy flashed a sarcastic look at him. "With those idiots listening in? Talk to my lawyer."

"Come on, Flynn!" Provenza scowled at him. "Stop screwing around. You did not spend three years of my life, that I am never going to get back, trying to find the guts to even ask that woman on a date, and then another three months trying to figure out _how_ to ask her, and finally a year whining about the fact that she was so gun shy that you could barely get her to commit to the idea that she was in a relationship with you, only to screw it all up now when she finally, _finally_ knows what page you're both on. You did not hook up with a prostitute, and whatever you were doing on Friday night isn't as important as what is going to happen if you don't tell us what it was."

Andy didn't say anything. He had already said the magic words. If Provenza wanted to keep going, that was up to him. For the moment, he just stared at the ceiling and counted the minutes. Sooner or later the old man would either get bored or his time would run out and he'd have to leave.

"Okay. Fine." Provenza threw his hands up. "You don't care about your relationship with the Captain. That's just great. What about your relationship with your kids? What are Nicole and Charlie going to say when they hear about this?" He saw Flynn's eyes flash and he leaned forward. "You just got Nic back, you barely have Charlie. What's he going to do when he hears that his old man was screwing up again? How hard do you think it will be to get him to return your calls then?"

"Leave my kids out of this." Andy stood up and paced away from him. "You can damn well leave Sharon out of it too," he said, lip curling. "While you're at it, get out of it completely. I don't need you in this."

The door opened before Provenza could continue. He turned, brows rising in dismay. "It hasn't even been ten minutes yet."

"The suspect invoked." Sharon stood inside the open doorway. "I'm afraid we are going to have to try to find another way of getting the information that we need." She did a half pivot and waved her arm, indicating that he should step out of the cell. She had listened until she realized that Lieutenant Provenza was only managing to make Andy angry enough to dig his heels in, not accidently spout off what he was really up to.

Provenza huffed a sigh. "Fine. If he wants to sit in here all night and stew, let him." He threw his hands up and shook his head as he followed the Captain out. The door was closed behind them. The Captain did not stop there. She kept walking. Provenza followed her, a frown drawing his brows together. He opened his mouth to comment but she held up a hand. It was not until they were in the elevator that her posture seemed to relax somewhat. " _What_?" He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. He was just finally getting somewhere with the idiot. Didn't she want to know what Flynn had done?

"Amy called." Sharon lifted her gaze to the digital display above the elevator doors. "There is no type match. The evidence that was found on the victim is A-positive. Lieutenant Tao traced the number that called Andy on Friday night."

He had expected Amy to get her answer right away. Morales had no reason to withhold it. He was surprised by her other news. "Already?" It usually took them a lot longer to track down unlisteds, they usually came back to burner phones that got them no where.

"Yes." That was all that she said. Sharon folded her hands in front of her. She wanted to wait until they were back on the ninth floor and within the relative sanctuary of their own offices. "I want to arrange a meeting with Linda Rothman tomorrow morning, but her office wasn't apt to return any of my calls today. I will try again tomorrow." She sighed. "I can't exactly blame her. Andy and I aren't married, nothing that he tells me is protected under privilege, and by law, there is nothing that she can reveal for the same reason."

"All of which just proves everything that I have been saying for the last three years." Provenza scowled at her. "The two of you have the worst timing of any one couple on the entire planet."

"Hm." Sharon continued to study the digital display. Her lips pursed for a moment. She slanted a sideways look at the Lieutenant. "Did it really take him three years?"

"Good god." Provenza rubbed a hand over his face. "If the two of you ever make it down an aisle it will be a miracle."

Her head tilted. Sharon's lips pursed again while she thought about that. She nodded. "There could be some truth in that statement." The elevator doors opened and she stepped through them. "I want to send everyone home tonight. I don't think we're going to get any farther. We've already accomplished more than I thought we would. Julio and Buzz are still looking for where that photograph might have been taken, but they can pick it up again in the morning."

"I won't argue with that idea." He was ready to go home. Provenza thought he might beat his head against a wall a few times, but he definitely wanted to go home. He followed her back into the murder room. "Okay," he said once they were inside. "What's the big secret?"

"The number belongs to Sergeant Staples." Sharon folded her arms across her chest. "Lieutenant Tao?"

"I found it in our own database," He reported. "Then I checked the Captain's phone records again. It was a three minute conversation. It pinged off a cell tower west of here, and based on the time and location, the Lieutenant was still sitting in traffic when the call was received."

"So that begs the even bigger question," Sharon stated. "What was a member of Internal Affairs doing calling Andy at nine o'clock on a Friday evening?" Her brow arched. "And why won't he tell us about it? Further more, why didn't Sergeant Staples mention it when I was questioned?"

Provenza said nothing. He walked toward his desk. His mind was turning over all of the possibilities. He turned around and leaned on the edge of his desk. His arms folded across his chest. "Flynn gets into it with Davidson and Mitchell at _Joe's_. They get a prostitute to come on to him, and probably offered to pay her." His head tilted and his eyes narrowed. "That one," he pointed at Amy, "decides to get into Davidson's face based on the things that he was saying about you and your relationship with the idiot also known as your partner, that I will not repeat because they do not bear repeating. No one really wanted to deal with an incident report, so we broke it up pretty quickly. We left the bar, and everyone went their own way."

"A bar which is frequented by many members of the LAPD," Sharon pointed out. "A location that is usually very crowded on a Friday evening. So is it possible that little altercation was witnessed by someone that none of you realized was present?" She looked around the murder room. They were all thinking about it, and nodded when they realized it was very possible. "When Andy got home on Friday evening he had no intention of telling me about what happened. He was reluctant to reveal any of the details of your evening. Something that is odd considering that he didn't actually do anything wrong. Then Julio came to see us on Sunday evening…"

"To report the messages and photo that Detective Davidson was passing around," Amy stated. "Which we had to write up and turn over to you on Monday morning."

"Exactly." Sharon walked over and sat on the edge of an empty desk. "I turned that matter over to the Detectives' division head. I did not copy Internal Affairs on it. Whatever disciplinary action was applied would have been done at that level. I was trusting their immediate supervisor to handle the situation."

"Trina Shiloh's body was found Sunday night," Tao pointed out. "She was already dead by the time that incident was reported. There was no reason for retaliation."

"No there wasn't," Sharon agreed. "She was not identified until Tuesday. By that point we had all moved well beyond the incident. We had a case of our own to work. Chief Howard, Captain Patrick, and Sergeant Staples pulled me aside _after_ our case was wrapped. I think that we can all agree that little interrogation was a means of diverting my attention while Lieutenant Lawrence and Detective McNeil took Andy in for questioning."

"While I was in with Oderno." Provenza scowled. "They pulled you and I away, and Flynn went with them willingly. Son of a…" He pushed away from his desk but his hand landed against the surface in a moderately loud slap.

"We have a fake photograph, a gap in traffic camera footage, and an altercation." Sharon ticked them off on her fingers. "We have a call from an Internal Affairs Detective, a diversion by our Chief of Operations, the head of the division that is investigating the murder, and no SID reports on any of the evidence that was collected at my home."

"It's all a diversion." Tao stood up. "Andy knows. That's why he went with Lawrence and McNeil, and it's why all of the superficial evidence leads to him."

"While there's no actual evidence that could get him charged," Cooper said. He had chosen to be silent, observing while the detectives did their thing. "Hobbs wouldn't get anywhere near this and neither would anyone else in the DA's office."

"But the warrant was signed by a judge," Amy pointed out.

"A judge with a long history of working internal affairs cases," Sharon stated. Her arms dropped. Her head fell back. She couldn't believe that she hadn't seen it sooner. "In most cases when wrong-doing is found on the part of the LAPD termination is recommended, but when prosecution is necessary those cases almost always go before Judge Grove."

Provenza was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Now might be a good time for me to mention that Flynn was best man at Lawrence's wedding." They all looked at him and he shrugged. "What? It was about fifteen years ago. I have a hard time remembering my own weddings much less anyone else's. Besides, Flynn more or less fell out with everyone when he ditched Robbery Homicide to come and play with us."

"If I may…" Cooper interrupted them. "I would like to go on record, right now, Captain as saying that we should stop while we're so far ahead." He folded his arms across his chest. "I won't pretend to be an expert in how you all work, but I can tell you, I am an expert in this."

Sharon returned his gaze. She nodded. "You are absolutely correct. Let's pack it up people. Go home and get some rest. Lieutenant Provenza, let Detective Sanchez and Buzz know that we will discuss the situation further in the morning. For now, I would recommend that we hold off on digging any deeper into this case until I have spoken with Chief Howard."

Amy's hand went into the air. "Unpopular opinion. Are we sure?" She looked around the room. "Or do we just want to be sure?"

"I'm sure." Cooper looked down at her. He was standing beside her chair. "We're about to burn his cover."

"Okay." Amy nodded. She believed them; she just wanted to make sure that they had considered all possibilities. She began closing the files that were open on her desk.

"That is going to be the least of his problems," Provenza stated. "I'm going to kill him." He walked around his desk and took his jacket off the back of his chair. "I could have gone home hours ago!"

The Captain hummed. She was rather more interested in why _she_ had not been informed. If they were correct, and she had a very good feeling that they were, then Andy was perfectly aware of what was going on around him. Captain Patrick and Sergeant Staples should have sought her approval before involving him in their case, if it was, in fact _their_ case. They had no way of knowing whom exactly the investigation was geared toward or who was running it. That was why Lieutenant Cooper was correct; they had to stop. "Good night, Lieutenant. Everyone…" Her gaze swept the room. "Have a good evening, get some rest. Lieutenant Cooper, thank you for all of your help tonight. I will see you all in the morning."

They watched her go into her office and close the door. Provenza jerked his head toward the exit. He waited for them to leave before he followed her. He only gave a cursory knock before pushing the door open. The Captain was standing with her arms wrapped around her body and her gaze directed through the windows behind her desk. Provenza sighed. "If he's under orders—"

"I know." Sharon felt her shoulders tense even more. He was speaking the truth, she knew that. "We walk a fine line," she admitted quietly. "Sometimes even I have a hard time seeing which side of it that I should be on. Logically I understand that if he was ordered not to tell me, he wouldn't. Not if he believes in what he is doing. On the other hand…"

"How could he keep something like this from you if you are going to marry him." They hadn't made any announcements but all of them had seen the ring. It didn't take a genius to realize they were waiting to talk to their kids. The Captain had been talking about Ricky coming to visit for a couple of weeks. It stood to reason they would do it then.

"Yes." Sharon turned. She smiled sadly at him. "It isn't always easy," she admitted, "this little juggling act of ours, but it is worth it."

Provenza snorted quietly. He shook his head. "Now he learns to follow the rules," he said, and a rueful little grin turned one corner of his mouth up. "I knew that you would end up being a bad influence on him." He took a step closer to her desk. "Look, whatever he's doing, there's a reason for it. A good one. We are all just going to have to play our parts and ride it out."

Sharon made a face at him. "I am rather offended by the part that I have been cast in all of this. Spurned girlfriend?" She looked truly disgusted by it.

The Lieutenant spread his hands wide. "It's a fine line," he reminded her.

She groaned. Sharon looked away from him. "It's not that fine a line." She sighed. "Go home Lieutenant. Thank you."

"You should do the same." He gave her a stern look. He knew she wouldn't want to, and he understood it, but she wouldn't be helping anyone if she stayed in her office all night.

"I will." Sharon reached forward and closed her laptop. "I sent Rusty to stay with Gus, for the time being, I think that is probably the best place for him. The farther removed from this that we keep him, the better. I will explain everything when it is over." Rusty wouldn't like it, but there was nothing that she could do about that. He would just have to learn to accept it.

"Sending him away keeps him from trying to _help_ ," Provenza pointed out. "Which would be worse for all of us in the long run. It was a good move." He turned toward the door. "Good night, Captain." He paused again before leaving her office. "Go home," he reiterated, more strongly this time.

Sharon watched him go with something of a tired smile. It slowly melted away once she was alone again. As tired as she was, she didn't really want to go home alone. The house would seem much too big on a night like this. Even as she thought about that, the aching in her shoulders reminded her just how exhausted she was. Sharon packed up her belongings and turned out the lights in the office. She only hoped that this case would be wrapped up soon, so that it would be the only long night that she would experience alone.

 **-TBC-**


	7. Chapter 7

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

 **A/N:** All Season 5 Spoiler Warnings remain in effect.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

It was early. Fritz liked arriving before the building began to fill up. He liked to move through the quiet halls before he settled into his office for a day of paperwork and conference calls. _His office_. He was still getting used to that. It wasn't a bad set of walls to spend most of his day in, but he preferred being out and about. There was a part of him, too, that missed the smaller office that he had occupied over at the Special Operations Bureau. This felt like too much space at times, but it served its purposes. It also still felt a lot like it belonged to someone else. That would fade with more time; it had only been a few months since Chief Taylor's death. They were all still in a transition phase, trying to find their way in the unexpected vacuum that was left behind by that shooting and the events of the case.

In the wake of all of those changes, Fritz had learned quite a few things, about himself and those that were now serving under him. He felt like he had come to know what to expect. Fritz had a pretty good idea that no amount of telling Raydor and her people to leave Captain Patrick's case alone would actually work. Even if he hadn't already known those people, he knew that he could not expect that they would easily turn their backs on one of their own. Fritz knew that was asking too much. He had done it though. He told the Captain to back off, to let the other division handle everything. He didn't like doing that, but there was a lot about this job that he didn't always enjoy. That was something else that he was getting used to.

Doing this job, being a cop, he knew that wouldn't be simple. There were always compromises that would have to be made. More times than he wanted to think about, the greater good came before personal preference, before beliefs and the expectations of what the world was really like. The same was true with wearing this new mantle of authority. Sometimes he wondered if he was really cut out for that. Raydor would have been his choice. In fact, when he was asked, that was his recommendation for the job. She compartmentalized better than any one person that he had ever met before, even Brenda Leigh. What he found most interesting was how well she moved between each of those mental compartments when the situation called for it. He had watched her shed the Captain and become the mother before his very eyes, without missing a beat between either responsibility, only to return to the other within moments. Fritz had watched the partner, carefully concealed between layers of professionalism, in how she dealt with Flynn and maneuvered through the reality of working alongside someone to whom she was so closely involved. With her team, she wore her authority as well as she wore one of her well-tailored jackets. He wondered how that situation would pan out during the early days of her transition into Major Crimes, but Fritz was not surprised that she had easily turned the division around and made it her own. He wondered if anyone else could have.

What surprised him was walking into his office, early in the morning, and finding the Captain already present and waiting for him. He supposed that he probably should not have been, but the surprise was there. She was seated in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Her appearance was as impeccable as always, and if not for the tired smudges beneath her eyes, he would have wondered how she could sleep so well with the current situation that was surrounding her.

He watched her as he settled behind his desk. Her legs were crossed and her hands were clasped together in her lap. She was looking up at him, and someone who didn't know her might have described her expression as impassive. Chief Howard knew better. There was a fire burning in those green eyes. He braced himself for what was about to come. "Captain, what can I do for you this morning?"

Her brow arched. He knew exactly what she wanted. "You can give me an explanation. I would like to know why you placed a member of my team undercover without informing me ahead of time."

Her tone was biting. Fritz almost winced. He sat back in his chair with a sigh. She wasn't even trying to hide what she had already figured out. "You and your team are faster than I thought." He had given them two days until Major Crimes had the entire thing mapped out. He didn't count on it happening in less than eighteen hours. Probably twelve if he really had to guess, considering that she had obviously been home, and from the state of the Murder Room when he walked through it that morning, so had her team. "Captain, I cannot emphasize enough," he said seriously, "just how important it is that you and your people step away from this operation."

Her head inclined. Sharon almost wanted to scoff at his insinuation that they would, somehow, put an undercover operation in jeopardy now that they were aware of it. Instead her lips pursed and she regarded him coolly. She was silent. He was staring back at her. Sharon waited until he shifted in his chair before her chin lifted. "We already have. We would not have needed to get as close to this operation as we did if I had already been apprised of it. I could have directed my team's efforts in an entirely different direction and given you the time that you obviously need to complete… whatever it is that you are doing. I can only assume that this still involves the murder of Trina Shiloh and that the real suspect is a member of the department. Beyond that I am at a complete loss as to why you would assign a member of my division to any operation without full disclosure to his immediate supervisor."

He had her now. Fritz leaned forward. He clasped his hands against the surface of his desk. "Which part of this bothers you more, Captain? That I took a member of your team and placed him in an operation that you know nothing about, a necessary action that I will get into shortly, or that for even a few minutes you were left to wonder whether or not your _boyfriend_ was cheating on you." He watched her eyes darken. Yes, he definitely had her. If she were the type, he could just imagine that her lip would curl in disgust. Instead, her eyes narrowed. In her lap, he saw her hands clasp more tightly together. "Maybe it's option number three," Fritz continued. "You got complacent. You're too comfortable. You forgot who you were dealing with and if you're mad, it's at yourself. You didn't know about the assignment and you questioned your personal situation because he played you. He played you because that was his job, and underneath it all, you can't fault him on it, because he's done the one thing that you've asked of him since that little romantic situation began last year. Flynn kept his personal life separated from his professional responsibilities." It was the Captain's turn to shift in her chair, to fold her arms across her chest and glare at him. "Maybe you can give yourself a break?" Fritz smiled at her. "I'm not going to tell anyone if you don't. We needed your reaction to be a genuine one, and it was. If you want to be mad, be mad at me." He leaned back in his chair again. "The poor guy down on four is worried about what you're going to do to him when this is over with."

Sharon looked away from him. "As well he should be," she said stiffly. There was going to be a conversation, but at the moment, the Chief was correct. It was herself that she was the most upset with. She should have trusted Andy, even with all of the mounting evidence to point to the contrary, but at the same time, he laid the groundwork to make sure that she questioned him. He would not have known on Friday evening what would transpire, so he could not have precipitated their entire argument for this purpose, but he certainly used that to his advantage. Howard was correct. He played her. It came from the one direction that she never expected it to. Even before they were romantically involved Sharon knew that the one member of her team that she could count on to be solid, above all others, was Lieutenant Flynn. Her put himself in her corner. He was the first one to come on board after she took over the division. He saw things so much differently than she did. He looked at the world rather simply sometimes. There was good and bad. Dirtbag, not a dirtbag. For Andy there was so little in between, so little gray. He accepted the necessities of their job, even when he regretted them. It was fluid for him. It had to be. It was part of his recovery. He bore the weight of what he could change, he had faith that there were reasons for the things that he could not.

She tried to accept that philosophy now. Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. She felt some of the tension flow out of her shoulders. "You knew that we would look," she said.

"In our defense, and with absolutely no _offense_ captain," Fritz smirked at her. "We thought it would take longer for you to figure it out." He shrugged. "I thought we had a couple of days. Flynn said that was pushing it, but I was counting on the... " He grimaced as he said it. "Personal aspect of the case to be a bit of a distraction, for your entire team, not just yourself."

"Hm." She decided that she would ignore that. It was a given that she would be affected personally, and she was. "The SID reports need to go into the system," Sharon said. "Your team needs to get the DA's office involved. It was the lack of authenticity that tipped us off. If we figured it out, someone else will too… perhaps just not as quickly."

Fritz smirked at her again. "Hobbs was concerned that falsifying the SID reports might hurt us in the long run. You and I both know that there was nothing to find in your home or Flynn's car. At the end of this assignment there will be a suspect, and if Hobbs can't get the deal, she's going to have to go to trial. The argument could be raised that if we would falsify SID reports to incriminate Flynn, we would do it to incriminate another suspect. Then the question would be raised if we had ever done that before. We decided that it wasn't worth it, not even for an undercover op. SID has it all listed as pending. We had to send it for processing, so we had the appearance of a real investigation, but they aren't in any hurry to get to it. There's plenty of real evidence to work."

"With no evidence, Andy can't go to an arraignment." Sharon's eyes narrowed. "You won't have to worry about the appearance of a biased judge either, since your false suspect won't be appearing before him. You will keep Andy in _jail_ pending the results from SID, and in the meantime, someone is actually working this case? I assume you already know who your suspect is."

She was fishing now. Fritz nodded. "We do. I can't tell you who that is. I can't even tell you who is working the case. What I will say is that I have someone working this from another angle. We have a lot of suspicions and not enough concrete evidence to move just yet. I'm going to need you to be patient for just a little while longer. When we move, you'll know about it. The fewer people we let into this, the better. Everyone involved knows exactly what they are doing here, Captain. Trust that."

"Twenty-four hours." Sharon pushed out of her seat. "The team that you have working this has twenty-four hours to complete their assignment or Major Crimes is taking over the investigation." A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You have a murder victim and a conspiracy to conceal within the LAPD. That seems like a Major Crime to me, Chief. It falls directly under the mandate and purview of the division, as Chief Pope created it, more than ten years ago. Furthermore, when the division was redesigned to fall within the guidelines of the Mayor's office, a much broader scope was applied. One that I think you might be very familiar with." It was Sharon's turn to smirk. His wife had managed to maneuver that little divisional design change. "Twenty-four hours and then this case is mine."

The Chief's brows rose in amusement. "You know, Captain, some people might interpret that as a little bit insubordinate. Don't you work the cases that I assign you to work?"

"As I recall, Chief, when you took this office you went out of your way to make certain that I knew that you did not want to step on my toes." He wouldn't get involved in the politics; her division would not become a tool for his ambition. "My team works the cases that I assign them to work," she stated, "so long as they fall within our mandate. Twenty-four hours," she reminded him.

Fritz watched her go and shook his head. Damn. He left himself wide open for that one. He sighed. "Better than nothing, I suppose." Howard sat forward in his chair and reached for his phone. He needed an update, and to warn his undercover team that they had been made. They were going to have to move fast. He hoped they had gotten everything else in place.

"Tell me you've got something," he said, the moment the officer on the other end answered.

"I do." Staples sighed. "Detective Davidson rolled over on his client list to stay out of jail."

Getting the Detective to do that hadn't been easy. Fritz nodded. "What did it cost us?"

"He's resigning. He gets his full pension, but we've got the list." His report for the Chief would be finished by mid-morning. They had only just wrapped up the finer aspects of the deal the evening before.

"And?" Fritz asked, sounding as impatient as he felt.

"We were right. He's on it. You've got your motive." Staples shrugged, despite the fact that it couldn't be seen. "We'll be able to put everything together and move. We can probably bring him in for questioning this afternoon. It just depends on whether or not you think we might end up spooking him before then. Can you put your case together without him finding out?"

"We're going to have to, Sergeant. We don't have any other option." Fritz tapped a pen against his desk blotter. "Get your report written up. Send it and the evidence over to my office. I'll put the other pieces in motion. We will do what we can." He ended the call and leaned back in his chair. The Captain had given him twenty-four hours; he was hoping to wrap it up in ten.

Captain Nolan Patrick moved through his bullpen with purpose. He was getting leaned on, hard, to get answers to the Chief's office. The brass wanted this one wrapped up fast, and he couldn't blame them. All of their butts were on the line this time. His team had already spent the day trying to wrap this up, but it looked like it might be morning before all of the final pieces were in place. That hadn't really gone over well with the Chief, but it was the best that they could do, considering the circumstances.

He stopped at Detective McNeil's desk. "What have you got for me?"

"Call logs and financials," McNeil reported. "Everything lines up with what we already thought. We need the physical evidence, and then we can haul the suspect in for questioning again." He turned in his chair and looked up at the Captain. "Half the division just rolled out to Sherman Oaks. We'll have to send a team in the morning."

Patrick sighed. His team wasn't like Major Crimes. They didn't get to just work a single case at a time. At any given moment they could have a couple of different homicide investigations going, along with the robberies, and anything else that Major Crimes decided it didn't want to take on. There were moments when it felt like his division got all of the grunt work; this was their opportunity to change all of that, though. What they could not change were the realities of their situation. They were short-staffed. "Yeah, I figured as much. I already told the Chief that. Get the entire preliminary written up tonight. We'll be ready to go with our second search first thing."

"Sounds good, Captain." McNeil turned back to his desk. He had already been planning to do just that. In an hour he planned to be out of the office and headed home.

Patrick made his way back to his office, but not without stepping into their small electronics room to check up on their inmate. He had been checking in on Flynn throughout the day. The man had seen his lawyer again near noon, but had been confined to his holding cell for most of the day. He took turns pacing the cell or stretching out on the cot. He had gotten into it once with Lieutenant Lawrence, when the man had accompanied him back to his cell after his visit with his attorney. Beyond that, he was being silent. He wasn't speaking to anyone and he wasn't asking for anything. Patrick decided that was just as well, all things considered. The quieter they kept all of this, the better.

He had a report from the night shift, and knew that Raydor and Provenza had been in to see the man, although neither of them had come down to the fourth floor during the day. Patrick was perfectly aware that they were running against the clock where Major Crimes was concerned. They were going to have to wrap this case up before the other division got tired of being patient and decided to toss its weight around.

The Captain returned to his office. He had reports on the body in Sherman Oaks to read through and authorize. He would do that while his team was in the field. They would collect the evidence tonight and send it off with SID. In the morning they would begin their investigation. When Patrick finished that, he checked in with McNeil again. The younger detective had his reports ready to go. Patrick filed it all in preparation for the next day's activities, and then he left for the day.

He had seen a lot of things in all of his time with the LAPD. This latest case was a little different. He never had to do things quite like this before. Something else that Nolan Patrick had never seen before was the swarm of police cars and officers that he found when he turned his car onto his street. The moment he made the turn at the stop sign two squad cars moved in behind him. Patrick's car slowed to a roll and finally a stop. There were squad cars in his driveway, on the street in front of the house. There was even one that had pulled up onto the curb.

He sat in his car for a moment. There were officers watching him. Two uniformed officers nearest his car had their hands on their guns. They were walking slowly toward him. Patrick placed one hand where they could see it and used the other to open the door. Then he held both hands up as he got out of the car. Lieutenant Lawrence strode across the yard toward him. Patrick scowled at the man. "Aren't you and this team supposed to be in Sherman Oaks investigating a murder?"

"We found a crime scene right here." The Lieutenant jerked his head toward the house. "Let's go inside, Captain. We have a few questions for you." His team had been on the premises for over an hour already, processing the scene and collecting evidence. "Officer Michaels here is going to take your weapon so that we have a nice, friendly conversation." He nodded to a uniformed officer to do that, and then to accompany them into the Captain's home.

The front door was standing wide open as officers moved into and out of the house. Patrick scowled as he looked around. "Where's my wife?" She should have been home by now.

"Shelby has decided to take the kids and stay with her mother for a few days," Lawrence pointed out. "I think you know why." He waved the other man into the house. "Let's talk."

"Let's." Patrick glared at him. "I think you have some explaining to do, Lieutenant."

"I think he's not the only one." Flynn was leaning against the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. He was back in street clothes, wearing jeans and a button down beneath an LAPD windbreaker and Kevlar vest. His arms were folded across his chest.

The Captain stared at him. He had just checked on the man. He was still in his cell. There was no way that he was able to get changed out of his inmate jumper and across town in as little time as had passed since Patrick looked in on him. "Why is he out of his cell?"

"I've been out of that cell all day. Where have you been?" Flynn smirked. They pulled him out to meet with his lawyer, and that was when they had laid the plans for the afternoon. He only went back long enough to make sure that Patrick knew he was in the cell. Then the security footage was put on a continuous loop. Flynn had joined Lawrence and the rest of his team. He would have liked to shower and shave before that, but there wasn't enough time. "I think the bigger question is whether or not you're ready to trade places with me."

"You could have gotten away with it, you know." Lawrence shook his head at the other man. "You just screwed up when you tried to shift the blame. You could have just buried it."

Captain Patrick folded his arms across his chest. He continued to glare at both men. "I don't know what you're talking about. The only one here that has anything to worry about being blamed for is Flynn, and we all know why."

"That was where you screwed up." Andy pushed away from the frame he was leaning against. "You heard about the incident in _Joe's_. You figured, that's great; I'll make everyone think that poor bastard did it so he wouldn't get caught. You just missed out on a few things. You weren't at _Joe's_ so you didn't see the thing go down. You also didn't see the fact that IA was there. Old man Morris retired, they were sending him off."

"So you didn't know," Lawrence picked up the story, "that when Flynn left, Staples called him. The Sergeant already knew that Davidson was using Trina Shiloh as a bankroll. He got greedy. He turned her loose on a commissioner, and the commissioner's wife got wind of it. Thing is, she just happened to be friends with Staples' wife. IA opened up an investigation on Davidson; they were just looking for the proof. When Staples saw the incident go down at _Joe's_ …"

"He gave me a call," Flynn said. "Wondered if I would be willing to help him grab the son of a bitch. Of course, I was still a little pissed off at the time, so I went along with it. I met up with Staples and he filled me in on what he knew. Staples already had Shiloh on record. He had her statement and they were waiting for the right person to come along as her next mark. She was going to turn evidence, she would get a walk, and Davidson would get what was coming to him. My job was going to be to get Davidson to hook me up with Ms. Shiloh later. Then we would see if he pulled his usual game. Considering who all the players were and how he felt about them, we were both pretty confident that he would fall for it."

"What they weren't counting on was Trina Shiloh's current client list," Lawrence said. "She didn't give the whole thing up. She didn't mention you. Even if she had, no one could really anticipate the fact that you weren't just another asshole that was cheating on his wife. Pissed you off when Davidson came back around asking for more money to make sure that your boss didn't find out that you were soliciting prostitutes, didn't it? I mean, that was the common theme in his game. He'd find people that had more to lose than just their marriages and he would stick it to them."

"Except getting rid of the guy who put the whole thing in motion wouldn't do you any good. When a cop goes down, everyone starts looking," Flynn explained. "So you got rid of the weapon that he was using against you. Mistake number one." He stopped. His head inclined. He waved a hand at the Captain. "Well, number two. Mistake number one was screwing around on your wife to begin with." He circled around Patrick. "You got Trina Shiloh to meet you Friday night. Thing is, you couldn't just kill her. You got your rocks off first. What do you call that, one for the road?"

"You dumped her body in the alley," Lawrence continued. "Then by the time you got to work on Monday, the rumor mill was all over the incident with Flynn on Friday night. People could not stop talking about Davidson trying to stick it to him and Raydor, so you thought, why not? Toss all of the evidence at Flynn, use him as your patsy, and get something out of it in return… aside from avoiding the whole Capital Murder side of things."

"You had your eye on Major Crimes," Andy took a step closer to him. "Captain Raydor was supposed to move up and your hat was in the ring to replace her. She decided to stay put instead, and you lost your nice, big promotion to the A-team. How many times is it now that you've been overlooked for that job?" He sneered at the other man. "Really couldn't stand losing to a woman, could you?"

While Flynn was looming over the man, Lawrence took another step closer, just in case the situation got out of control. "If everything had worked out, you'd send Flynn down for the murder. The icing on the cake would have been Raydor. You were betting that she would be so professionally destroyed by it, that she would retire. She would take her pension and slink off out of your way. People would wonder how much involvement Provenza had, or if he could really be trusted, considering how long he and Flynn have been partners. Chief Howard would have to fill the slot pretty quickly, and there you would be. The guy who cracked it all wide open."

"Just one little problem with all of that." Flynn's lip curled. "You're a moron. You were so busy worrying about the endgame that you failed to cover your ass."

"Your number was on Trina Shiloh's phone records," Lawrence said. She called you several times. She wasn't a professional escort. She was a prostitute. She was using her own phone to conduct business."

"And you had no alibi for Friday night," Andy grumbled.

"Shelby was out with her sister and a couple of other friends," Lawrence said. "But you told me on Tuesday that you went home and spent the evening watching TV with her. That got me to wondering why you would lie. Then when I questioned Davidson later that week, he said that I would be surprised by who was on that client list of his. What really bothered me, though, was how fast you jumped at the idea that Lieutenant Flynn was our suspect. We had nothing to go on, no reason to really suspect him. Then you did something that I just couldn't figure out. You started tossing around all kinds of crazy ideas, like maybe Raydor did it. Neither of those ideas just really did anything for me. So I pulled Andy aside. I questioned him outside of our official meeting at the PAB. He told me about his plan to work with Staples. That was easy enough to corroborate. We knew that Flynn didn't kill Trina Shiloh; he was with Staples at the time that the murder took place. I didn't start to really suspect you until we searched the house."

"We knew someone inside the LAPD was involved," Flynn said. "We just didn't know that it was you. Not until you pushed for the warrant to search my place. Sergeant Staples and I decided that we would work with Eric to figure out who was behind it all."

"But when we searched the house," Lawrence explained, "you got a little careless. "You didn't realize that I was running the inventory log. I guess you thought I wouldn't notice if a couple of extra items showed up in evidence that weren't on the inventory. Items that I distinctly remembered you handling."

Flynn's teeth ground together. "You took one of Sharon's nightgowns out of the laundry. I guess you thought there would be evidence on it." His eyes burned darkly. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists; they were itching for the chance to knock this creep across the room.

"Andy already knew that he might have to spend a night in the cell to make our investigation look real. He knew he couldn't tell his Captain what was really going on. We didn't know that you were actively trying to frame him. Not until then."

"You don't have anything." Patrick spoke for the first time. He stood there, quietly fuming throughout their little story. "There is no evidence at all linking me to Trina Shiloh."

"Nothing except the DNA that you left behind," Flynn bit out.

"And the clothes with her blood on them that we found in the tool closet of your garage, strangling her wasn't enough, you had to hit her over the head," Lawrence told him. "DNA will tie it all up, but we already have a type match back from Morales. We're pretty sure your hands will match the bruises on her neck too. We've also got the evidence tampering, since we found the original photos you photo-shopped together to make it look like Flynn met with the victim Friday night. So that adds to the solicitation, conspiracy to conceal a murder. We've got a lot."

"Including the client list and proof of transaction from Detective Davidson," Andy said. The other detective had handed it all over, along with an agreement to testify for the opportunity to stay out of jail and keep his pension in tact. It was a shitty deal, but sometimes that was the job. "It's more than enough."

Lieutenant Lawrence took his handcuffs off his belt and held them out. "Lieutenant, would you like to do the honors."

"Gladly." Andy took them. He stepped behind the Captain. "Nolan Patrick, you have the right to remain silent…"

 **-TBC-**


	8. Chapter 8

**What is Not Understood**

 **By Kadi**

 **Rated T**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, but it is my favorite place to play.

 **A/N:** All Season 5 Spoiler Warnings remain in effect.

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

The news of Captain Patrick's arrest in the murder of Trina Shiloh, and the many other charges that he was facing, came as Sharon was preparing to send her team home for the evening. With no other cases pending they had finished the paperwork that was left incomplete in the wake of Andy's arrest. There was plenty enough work to keep all of them occupied throughout the day, when the reports were finished, they had turned their attention to case notes and filling out information summons from other divisions and the DA's office.

It was difficult not to think about what they would rather be doing, but they had to trust that Chief Howard knew what he was doing, and that he had the right people involved. Sharon expected, now that the case was nearing completion, that she could anticipate having Andy home that evening. There were a few things that she wanted to discuss with him.

Sharon dismissed the rest of her team and then she made her way home just as sedately as she was able. She didn't want it to look as though she was rushing, even when that was exactly what she was doing. She was surprised, however, to find Andy's car parked in its usual place when she arrived. She had hoped to arrive first. She wanted the opportunity to change and get her thoughts in order before spoke. She made her way into the darkened house and found nothing at all amiss on the first level. Sharon left her purse in its usual place and slipped out of her jacket as she made her way upstairs.

There was a lamp on in their bedroom, and she admitted to herself that the sensation she felt in her stomach was nervous energy. Sharon moved quietly into the room and let her gaze wander the interior. There was a damp feeling in the air, and it mingled with the familiar scents of Andy's body wash, it was sandalwood and something else that she couldn't remember at the moment. Her gaze was drawn toward the bed. Andy was sprawled there, across the bottom of the mattress, as though he had been sitting on the edge of the bed while dressing and had leaned over. He was swearing a pair of comfortable, old sweat pants that had ridden low on his hips. There was a t-shirt on the mattress beside him, but it didn't look as if he had quite managed to pull it on.

Sharon drew a breath as she moved closer. He had an arm thrown across his face and his face tucked into the crook of his elbow. His bare chest was rising and falling evenly, and the soft sound of his snoring filled the otherwise silent room. A smile tugged at her lips, even as her vision blurred with tears that she blinked back. He must have been exhausted, she thought. They had only just wrapped their own case after several long nights and then the intrusion into their lives by Robbery Homicide. She also knew that he couldn't have slept well the night before, if he had slept at all.

She gathered the towel that was left on the floor beside the bed and carried it back into the bathroom to hang on the hook beside the shower. Sharon caught sight of herself in the mirror and sighed. Andy was not the only one exhausted by recent events. She forced herself to look away. Yes, she was pale and drawn, and there had been better days as far as aesthetics were concerned. Sharon swept her hair behind her ears and slowly peeled out of the blouse and skirt that she had put on that morning. She walked back into the bedroom and claimed the t-shirt that he left laying on the bed. Sharon slipped into it before she turned off the lamp and climbed onto the mattress beside him. She caught the corner of the duvet that covered the bed and drew it over both of them as she settled on her side, pressed as closely to his back as she could manage.

As her legs tangled with his and her arm settled around his waist, she exhaled a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. It felt as though the weight of it had been pressing down on her for the last few days. She could almost feel her body melting into the mattress and the warmth of the man in front of her. She tucked her face against his back, lips gentle against the back of his shoulder, and was just closing her eyes when a hand caught hers and she was pulled impossibly closer. He mumbled sleepily, but did not let go of her hand. He drew her arm up his body and tucked their joined hands against his chest. He burrowed into the bed and she smiled as she turned her face into his neck. "I love you too," she whispered. Her eyes were already closed, but with that, she was able to sink peacefully into oblivion with him.

When Andy woke some time later, he had no sense of time. He knew only that the room was dark, he was warm, and he had a face full of hair. He pushed the dark strands away from his face and let his eyes blink open. He didn't remember Sharon coming home, but she obviously had. He had planned to take a shower and shave before he saw her again. His back was hurting like hell when he sat down on the edge of the mattress. He only intended to stretch out for a couple of minutes, to rest the muscles that had spent one night too long on an uncomfortable jail cot. Apparently he had dozed off. Instead of waking him, she had joined him.

Andy lifted his head and propped it in his hand. There was barely enough light to see anything in the room, but he could just make out Sharon in what little illumination existed. In sleep her face was relaxed, but there were still tense lines around her eyes. She had put his shirt on, and as his hand wandered down her torso, he smiled at the realization that there was little else that she was wearing. His fingers found the hem and slipped underneath it. His touch was light as his hand moved slowly upward, fingers dancing across her stomach He lowered his head and turned his face into her neck.

He nuzzled gently, lips soft. He heard her sigh, and then hum. She shifted beside him, back arching as she moved closer. Andy grinned against her skin. He kissed his way along her jaw to her chin. He heard her sigh again and lifted his head. Andy watched her lashes flutter and then her eyes blink open. He studied her in those first seconds, watched the line form between her brows as she wondered where she was. Then it smoothed out as the initial disorientation cleared, and a smile curved her lips. Her eyes blinked against the darkness of the room and she turned her head toward him. His hand splayed across her stomach, thumb moving in a simple, light caress against her warm skin.

"Hi." His voice was thick, barely above a whisper.

"Hi." Her eyes closed again but the smile remained. She lifted a hand to his face. The two-day-old scruff that covered his jaw tickled her palm. She hummed again. She was warm and drowsy and floating just a little on the familiar and comfortable sensations of having him beside her.

Andy chuckled. She was sliding back under. He moved again and lowered his head to her stomach. He kissed a path slowly upward from her naval to her ribcage, until the muscles beneath his mouth were dancing and he heard her laugh at the feel of his stubble against her skin. Her hand moved into his hair. Andy tugged the t-shirt down again and lowered his head to lie against her stomach. His arm wrapped around her hips and thighs. "Missed you." It was more than just her presence. He hadn't realized just how much he had come to rely upon her counsel until he didn't have it.

Her fingers were combing through his hair. Sharon opened her eyes again. Light from the window was reflected in the silver strands of his hair. "Me too," she murmured. He was only gone a day, but she understood his meaning. From the moment that he agreed to help Sergeant Staples, there was a wall between them. A wall that she hadn't even known existed until later, but it was there.

They questioned at the start of this relationship that they could keep their work separate from their personal life and vice versa, but even Sharon had thought of it in terms of Andy working for her. She had questioned it in terms of discipline and sending him into the field. She wondered that he could take orders from her all day and would want to be with her in the evenings. She hoped they could separate the two. Sharon never thought of the possibility of Andy being pulled from her department and put on a different path, even temporarily. Certainly, there were things that they could not talk about, but she had taken for granted that they were things that she could not reveal to him. It never occurred to her that he might be tasked with something that he could not speak to her about.

Sharon wondered again that she had grown complacent. Perhaps she was even a bit selfish. She had taken for granted that he would be faithfully hers, at work as well as at home. He would do his job, and he would do it well, because he was sworn to and he was dedicated. Like her, being an officer was part of him; he didn't hesitate to do the right thing when it was placed in front of him, even when it meant things might become personally uncomfortable for the both of them.

"I'm proud of you," she told him.

His head turned. He looked up at her. "It was just another dirtbag, Sharon." Andy didn't see it as particularly wonderful. He did what he had to do. They got a killer and a bad cop off the street.

Her hand moved. Her thumb traced the outline of his cheek, the familiar lines and dips. "No," she said quietly, "for keeping me out of it." She could only just make out his hooded gaze in the darkness of the room. Her thumb traced the line of his jaw. "I'm sorry," she whispered; for not trusting him, even for just a short time.

"No." He lifted his head. Andy moved up her body to loom over her. Her gaze followed him and he held it. "I'm sorry," he said. "I knew what would hurt, and I used it." He knew, only days after their argument, that those feelings would still be raw, even if they had little to do with him and everything to do with her past. He poked at that wound, prodded it, and used it to his advantage in a situation where he needed people to question that he was actually guilty of a crime that he could never commit.

She had no answer to that. Sharon simply drew a breath and exhaled slowly. He rolled away from her and moved to sit with his back leaning against the headboard. Sharon followed him. She sat beside him, hands in her lap. "I don't think that this was a situation that we could have prepared for or anticipated," she said carefully.

"We needed time," Andy explained. "I knew the minute that we had to move we weren't going to have a lot of time to pull the pieces together. Everyone was going to look to you. We keep this," he gestured between them, "us, out of work as much as we can. No one knows what we're like together, and that's how I like it, but…" Andy broke off with a sigh. "We already suspected Patrick. I needed him to think that you were questioning it too." He looked over at her. "But I didn't want to lose you to it either." It was, maybe, the hardest juggling act that he had ever done. He had to make her doubt him, so that others would doubt him, but he needed her to trust him too.

Sharon moved then. She slipped beneath his arm and turned her body so that she was lying against his chest and stomach. Her arm wrapped around his middle and she settled with her head against his chest. His skin was still warm beneath her cheek, despite the chilly night air in the room. "You didn't," she promised. "I am right here, Andy. When I stopped being angry at you for using our personal life against me," she explained, because the truth was, she had felt that anger initially. "I realized how necessary it was. We knew that our lives would overlap occasionally. I accepted that I couldn't keep this out of our work completely…" They were not robots. They couldn't only love each other behind closed doors, but it was their behavior that defined them.

His fingers combed through her hair. Andy studied the top of her head. "It wasn't supposed to be our work, though." He sighed again. "We just can't control what kind of morons other people are."

"No." She turned her face into his chest. She smiled against his skin. "That we definitely cannot do."

Andy drew a breath. His fingers moved along her hairline in a simple caress, downward to her neck, and back through the thick strands of dark hair again. "How pissed off is the kid?"

Sharon groaned. She shifted against him again, wriggling closer. "Cops always lie," she said, repeating what Rusty had said to her on the phone when she filled him in on everything. "He will be okay. He believed in you. He was more worried than anything. I sent him to stay with Gus, so we kept him as separated from all of it as we could. This was Rusty's first undercover assignment. He will come around."

"I'll make it up to him." Andy tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "I was really hoping he wouldn't be home when it all went down, but the damn kid has the worst timing sometimes."

"Mmhm." Her nails raked through the hair that covered his chest. "He really does. Gets it from his stepfather." When his fingers moved against her neck, teasing skin that he knew was ticklish to the touch, Sharon moved away from him. She rose onto her knees and moved to straddle his lap. "I think," She said carefully, making sure to word her statement just right, "that you should be more concerned with making it up to me."

"Oh yeah?" His hands settled against her thighs. Andy slid them slowly upward, beneath the t-shirt, and to her hips. He gave a tug and pulled her closer. He watched her bottom lip go between her teeth and heard her breath catch as she settled against him. "I was thinking too," he rumbled.

"Were you?" Her lashes fluttered and her voice simpered sweetly. "What were you thinking about, hm?" Her hands were against his sides. They moved slowly downward to the waist of his sweats, which were already sitting low on his hips. Her fingers dipped teasingly beneath the elastic.

"I was thinking that it's cold," he explained, "and I want my shirt back." His hands splayed the expanse of hip, thumbs dipping into the apex of her thighs. She hummed again and he felt anything but cold. God almighty but the things that sound did to him.

"Oh," she said. Sharon looked down. "This old thing?" She tugged at it with two fingers and looked up at him through her lashes. Sharon watched him nod. Even in the faintly illuminated room she could see his eyes burning. She shrugged. "Okay then." She caught the edges of the old, faded and comfortable cotton and pulled slowly. Sharon slipped it up her body and over her head. Then she held it in front of her, dangling it between her fingers. "There you go."

Andy grabbed it in one hand. He curled his arm around her waist and sat forward so that they were nose to nose. The corners of her mouth were twitching. His eyes narrowed. He grumbled her name as he twisted. He pressed her into the mattress beneath him and turned his face into her neck. He nuzzled, the contrast of prickly, two-day-old stubble against her soft skin made her squirm against him.

She was laughing when his head finally lifted. She met his gaze and they both slowly sobered. They stared at one another. Sharon lifted her head and met him half way when he sought her lips. They moved together more slowly as her legs curled around him. The playful laughter was forgotten as long sighs and quiet moans filled the room.

The rising of the sun on a new morning found them in their bathroom. The air was thick with steam after their shared shower. They moved around each other with ease as they went through their usual morning routines. Sharon caught Andy standing at the vanity, still only clad in the towel that was wrapped around his waist, a hand rubbing at his scruffy jaw and cheeks. She shook her head at him. She was nearby, rubbing moisturizer into her arms, while she too was still wrapped in only a thick towel. "That has to go," she told him. She was going have a hard time covering the whisker burn that it had left behind on her neck and chest.

He slanted a look at her. His dark eyes gleamed. "I don't know," Andy grinned. After only a couple of days it was already growing in pretty thick, if with a bit more gray than he would prefer. "I think I like it."

Sharon's arms dropped. She turned where she stood to look at him more fully. There was a bland look on her face. She shook her head slowly. "Uh uh." She pointed at him. "There is a lot that I will accept and put up with because I love you, but that," her finger made a circular motion at his face, "is not one of them."

"Oh yeah?" He reached out and curled his hand around her wrist. Andy tugged her over to stand in front of him. "You sure about that?" His face dipped toward her neck and shoulder again. He grinned as she tried to dodge him, but found herself trapped between his body and the vanity. He laughed when she pushed against his shoulders and slipped his hands down, underneath the towel, to grip her thighs. He settled her on the vanity in front of him and stood between her legs. "Put up with?"

There was a challenge in his gaze, but the corners of his mouth were trying to twitch toward a grin. Sharon hummed. "Yes." She turned and reached behind her on the vanity. Her hand curled around the cool can of shaving cream. She squeezed it into her hand. Her eyes were dancing when she smeared it across his face. Sharon watched his eyes narrow and his nose wrinkle. She smirked as she lifted his razor.

He pulled her closer to the edge of the vanity. His hands remained at her thighs. His fingers stroked the soft, exposed skin in a simple caress, sliding from knee to hip and back again. Sharon smoothed the shaving cream over his cheeks and jaw, and the underside of his chin. Then she tipped his face to one side and went to her task. He watched her eyes narrow and her bottom lip get tugged between her teeth. Andy couldn't help himself. "Can you even see?"

Her eyes slid to his and her brow arched. There was a warning in her gaze. She held the razor up between them. She only hummed at him before her attention shifted back to the scruff that she intended to be rid of. His life was in her hands. He chuckled quietly and let his hands slide to the tops of her thighs. His thumbs moved inward, across the much softer, more sensitive skin and he heard hear indrawn breath. Her gaze didn't waver again, though. Her hand remained steady as the blade was drawn across his face.

Her skin was still flushed from the shower, from the heat and humidity that remained in the air. Her hair was beginning to curl as it dried. His eyes tracked the line of her neck, the graceful curve of it. His eyes followed the path to the tops of her bare shoulders, and further down to where her towel began. When she turned to rinse the razor in the sink, the towel slipped just a little. Andy's hands had continued to caress her thighs, thumbs dipping every inward. He was so busy gazing at the cleavage that her towel was giving him a view of that he jumped in surprise when the back of the razor smacked the top of his hand.

Andy looked down into glittering eyes. "We don't have time for that," she warned, one corner of her mouth lifting into a crooked smile. "Now stop moving." Sharon cupped his chin in her hand and drew the razor across his skin again. She was intent on her task and trying very hard to ignore what he was doing with his hands. She wrapped her legs around his and hooked her feet behind his knees. She rubbed her lips together and concentrated on breathing, even as the heat in the room seemed to increase. He was smirking at her. Sharon continued to ignore him, or at least pretend that she was.

While she finished with his face and moved on to his neck, Andy busied himself with trying to part her towel. She smacked his hand again and he only grinned. He tugged it open and let it drop. Andy clucked his tongue. "Oops."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "You can be such a juvenile," she remarked, but with more than a little fondness. She pushed the razor into his hand and captured the edges of her towel. Sharon nudged him away from her and slid down off the vanity. "Finish up. As much as I might want to play with you right now, we really do not have time."

He caught her around the waist as she moved past him. He dropped a kiss to her mouth before he let go of her again. Andy laughed as she walked away, wiping shaving cream off of her face. Her towel hit the back of his shoulders a moment later and he snorted. "Who is the juvenile now?" He tried to catch a glimpse of her in the mirror as she walked away from him, but she had already moved out of view through the bathroom door. Andy shook his head and leaned forward to finish shaving.

They both finished dressing for the day without any more interruptions. As they were headed down to have breakfast before leaving for the office, they met Rusty coming in the front door. He made a face at them. "Gus told me that I'm supposed to ask you what kind of bird doesn't fly."

Andy rolled his eyes as he stepped off the stairs. "Kid still wants to be a comedian." He dropped his jacket over the newel post and continued on toward the kitchen. "I ain't laughing. Little psycho."

"Says the one who spent the night in jail," Rusty called after him. He turned his attention back to his mother, who was now standing in front of him. She didn't look happy. Rusty shrugged. "What?"

"This is nothing to make jokes about," she told him. Sharon folded her arms across her chest. "It was a very difficult case, and what Andy was required to do was not simple and it was as hard on him as it was for us. I would appreciate it if you could be more understanding."

"Sure." Rusty shrugged again. "I will do what I can to make things easier on the jailbird that you are marrying." When her glare hardened, Rusty lifted his hands. "Last one, I promise."

"See that it is." Sharon moved around him and followed Andy into the kitchen. She stopped on the way and collected his things from her purse. She laid his wallet and phone on the counter beside him and dangled the bracelet in front of him.

"Hey, I was wondering what you did with that." Andy took it from her, gladly, and stepped away from the coffee maker to slip it on while she took mugs down to fill. While they waited for the coffee to percolate, Andy captured her hand. He grinned as he slipped his ring off her index finger. "That's mine too," he teased.

Her lips turned down in a playful pout. "I was starting to get used to it." She moved in to his side after he finished slipping it on and lifted her face to his.

"I thought we didn't have time for that." He grinned as he kissed her. Andy heard Rusty grunt behind them and pointed a finger at him. "Not a word, little comedian. Not one word." He kissed Sharon again before stepping away from her. "Cereal or eggs," he asked.

Sharon looked at her watch. She sighed. "Cereal. I have a meeting with Chief Howard first thing. I expect it will be the full briefing on your involvement in the Shiloh murder investigation."

"Try to go easy on him." Andy filled only two bowls with cereal when Rusty declined. "It's not his fault that you find me so irresistible."

She snorted as she filled their cups with coffee. "You are on a roll this morning."

Andy turned and spread his arms wide. "I have two whole days worth of juvenile behavior to catch up on."

It was really best not to encourage him. Sharon turned away from. She was shaking her head, but that did not stop her from smiling widely at his antics. She handed a cup of coffee to Rusty and walked over to stand at the center island with her cup. Andy placed the cereal in front of her and moved around to stand adjacent. "It will be interesting to hear his explanation, at the very least," she said, speaking of the Chief again.

"You're a tough audience," Andy pointed out. "He better make it interesting. There should be tales of my heroics. I expect a poem."

Her lips pursed. She pointedly ignored him as she looked across to where Rusty was seated at the bar that separated the kitchen and living room. "So how was your evening with Gus? I hope that he isn't too put out with us."

"Are you kidding me?" Rusty laughed. "He's trying to figure out how to trade places with me. Gus adores you guys. When I told him that it was all just a huge undercover thing, he thought it was the coolest thing that he had ever heard."

"See." Andy pointed his cup at Sharon. "Gus would write me a poem, I bet."

She rolled her eyes at him. Sharon took two bites of her cereal and placed the bowl in the sink. "I'm going to work," she decided. "Try not to be late. Rusty, I will see you this evening, barring any unforeseeable changes."

"Like murder, mayhem, boyfriends getting arrested." She glared at him as she walked past and Rusty grinned. "She keeps walking right into these things," he told Andy. "I'm just supposed to let them lay there?"

"I know." He shrugged as he lifted his coffee cup. "I'm fairly certain she's not as amused by it as we are. We might have to force ourselves to stop."

"Yeah." Rusty's head tilted. "But, if you don't, you could write a book about the whole thing. We'll call it… Jailhouse to Doghouse, one man's journey to sleeping in the guestroom."

"You're not cute," Andy decided.

"Yeah. I sort of am. That was way better than the poem thing."

Sharon could hear them devolve into bickering as she gathered her purse and jacket. She shook her head as she headed down the hall. Once she was in her car, she let out a breath that she had not realized that she was holding. That had gone well. At least Rusty was not overly angry with them, and if he was upset, he was keeping it to himself. Andy on the other hand… Sharon let her forehead drop to rest against her steering wheel when she realized just what his good mood would mean for the day. She could lock her office door but the glass wasn't exactly soundproof. She would still end up hearing him bicker with Provenza for the remainder of the day. It was going to be an incredibly long day.

She wouldn't trade it for anything else.

They could not always anticipate the twists and turns along the path that they were traveling, they could only hold on to each other and hope for a greater meaning in all of the things that they could not change. For all of the things that they could accept, for all of the moments that they could shape and change, and make their own, they had only to hold on tighter, to trust and have faith. It was not a simple thing, life. It was not always understood. It simply was.

 **~FIN**

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This concludes our tale. Thank you all so much for all of the kind words. It has been wonderful.


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